McGirl - Fem Timothy McGee Collection
by phantom-lass
Summary: Collection of Girl McGee One-Shots. Mixture of serious and funny. There will be appearances by Kort, Fornell and Langer. There will also be the Hawaii 5-0 gang. And Jurassic World. :) Fem McGee. Enjoy.
1. Info

Hi everyone.

So here is a little rundown on what is to come :)

 **Female** Timothy McGee!

You have been warned.

In the words to come **Tim is a GIRL!**

Ok, now that is over let move on.

Some of these one-shots will be serious, some will be silly.

All of this was brought on from watching the NCIS Season 1-8 boxset and wonder, hmm…Tim as a girl. DING!

There will be CIA (Kort), FBI (Langer/Fornell), Hawaii 5-0, Jurassic World…Yeah I went a bit crazy and would just type anything that popped into my head (which is why some of these didn't go the way I was planning as I just went with the weird little flow ;))

My hope is that I've approached even the totally insane random (wish fulfilment) ideas in a realistic and semi-plausible manner. But like I said. Some are a bit silly.

I have tried to write these so that even the connected one-shots (that have almost ended up as mini-stories) can be read separately from each other. Some I achieved this. Others not so much.

There will be a chapter posted every 1-2 days.

Please enjoy and don't be shy in dropping me a comment.

Cheerio for now.

:)


	2. They Don't Bite

The silence was getting ridiculous now. _She_ was getting ridiculous.

She chased down murderers on a daily basis and a six year old – if he was even that – was freaking her out.

Usually when it came to cases that involved kids Gibbs was the one to deal with them – the man was a freaking child whisperer when he put his mind to it - or Abby would somehow get herself involved outside of the lab.

But not this time.

This time they were at a bustling crime scene and everyone else was apparently occupied.

Gibbs had walked up to her just as she had finished fetching the bags from the car and left her. He had patted the little boy on the back, introduced her as Agent McGee, smiled that all knowing smirk of his at her and left to do - she assumed – what he would have told her to do.

They stood and stared at each other while the world bustled about them and then she rapidly glanced around in what she hoped was panic disguised as general interest in the goings on of the crime scene.

Nope. No one was around to call upon or to beg for help.

Ziva was off questioning witnesses and Tony had been sent off almost as soon as they arrived to chew-out some poor local cop who had accidentally contaminated the scene.

She – Timothy McGee – was on her own for now and it didn't look like that would be changing in the near future.

She forced herself to look back at the boy.

Just who was this kid anyway? Maybe a more appropriate question was _whose_ kid was this? She found herself hoping that the eerily silent child wasn't related to the victim.

Her phone began to vibrate against her hip.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

She fumbled for her phone under the watchful gaze of – Damn it Gibbs, she didn't even know his name.

Seeing Gibbs' name on the caller ID she relaxed with relief. This would be her boss calling to tell her she had better pass the kid onto one of the hovering LEOs and get her ass into the building to sketch the crime scene or catch a cat or something. Anything.

"McGee," she answered, almost before she had flipped the phone open.

"They don't bite, McGee," came Gibbs' voice, without even so much as a hello – not that she actually expected it, but it would be nice…one day.

She looked at the boy from the corner of her eye. He stood watching her.

"You can never be too sure boss, I'm behind with my shots,"

Tim turned from the boy as she slapped a hand over her mouth and scrunched her eyes closed.

Had she just sassed Gibbs?

There was silence.

She had. She had just sassed Gibbs. Tim felt the back of her head itchy. The man was giving her a 'Gibbs Slap' through the phone.

"I'll talk to him boss," she rushed out.

"The victim was the babysitter, McGee," was the last thing she heard before the line went silent for good.

McGee sighed, closed her phone, slipped it back into her pocket and turned back to the still quiet child. He couldn't have seen much surely as he was reacting very well to the whole thing. But then kids had a habit of handling crime scenes a lot better than adults who tended to go to pieces.

It wasn't that she had never dealt with children before. She helped out with local youth groups – when she had the time – and she had a younger sister for Pete's sake. It was just that she still wasn't used to encountering them during her work. She didn't know how to deal with a child that had seen something she came across on a regular basis no matter how well they handled it.

Well, thanks to Gibbs it looked like she was going to have to learn pretty fast.

She looked around for some inspiration for just what to do.

They were in a nice part of town – apartments above boutiques and flower boxes – containing some stubborn all weather plants that had stuck out the freeze - outside ground floor windows kind of nice. She scanned the shops. A grocers, nail salon, hair dressers…BINGO.

She smiled and crouched down to the boy's height to look him in the eyes. They were a little bit red but whither that was from a previous bought of crying or just the nippy weather she didn't know.

"You already know I am Agent McGee, but I don't know your name yet,"

The boy studied her, obviously gauging whither or not she was worthy of this information.

"I'm Timothy,"

Apparently she was.

A little hand was thrust towards her and she took it in her own to shake. Despite the thick jacket that someone (Gibbs no doubt) had had the presence of mind to dress him in before sending him out, his little hand was freezing in her own. Tim forced herself to let go of the icy digits.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Timothy," that got her a tentative smile.

"Now, would you like to join me for some hot chocolate," she pointed towards the little café she had spotted tucked between a deli and a jewellers.

The boy looked unsure and she gave an exaggerated shiver – surprisingly difficult to do without falling over. The poor thing's nose was turning red.

She leaned in close to the boy, channelling all the inner five year old she could muster.

"You see, Timothy, I really don't like being cold. And you would be doing me a big favour if you came with me. I hate drinking hot chocolate by myself," she smiled as reassuringly as she could.

Finally with a small smile he nodded and reached out to take her hand once she was standing.

She gave it a quick squeeze and hand in hand they crossed the road to the café.

"You know," she began as they reached the opposite pavement, "My name is Timothy too,"

The boy looked at her with wide eyes.

"But that's a boy's name,"

She released his hand to hold the door open and he walked under her arm and into the coffee scented warmth of 'Julie's'.

"I promise you, that is my name,"

She released the door and stepped in after him.

"I can show you my badge if you don't believe me,"

A still pale but excited face looked up at her as the door thudded shut behind her.

She could do this!

* * *

 **I just got this idea of poor McGee being thrown in at the deep end with something that in most episodes Gibbs deals with and just ran with it.**

 **I really hope you enjoyed this.**

 **Take care :)**

 **x**


	3. Proxy

"Umm…Doctor Mallard?"

Tim felt nervous but she had given this some deep thought. She liked the Doctor and trusted him to make the right decision for her if he ever had to be called upon. She knew that Tony had badgered Kate to be her emergency contact and Kate had ended up choosing Abby after Tony had put his foot in it. But who did she have chosen – if anyone – to make the big decisions?

And Gibbs…well she wouldn't be surprised if it was the Doctor or even Fornell he had for his contacts. Gibbs and the FBI agent had a strange relationship and though they antagonised each other in the work environment she knew they trusted each other deep down. She could tell…you learned a lot when you stay quiet and just watched.

And Tony…maybe Gibbs? Or maybe he had a police buddy somewhere who held the responsibility.

Tim had tried to think of someone else, not wanting to add anything else onto what must already be a full plate that the doctor lived with.

But the only other people she could think of would not be any good.

Penny travelled too far and too often to be a reliable person – there would be no guarantee that she would be available or even in the country if called upon.

She did not want to place her little sister in such a situation. It wouldn't be fair. And she didn't want her to have to live with a difficult decision is she was forced to make one. But then with Sarah's age would they even accept a decision from her?

There were her parents… But as things weren't exactly amicable between herself and her father she couldn't put him down. There was her mom, but she had always had the habit of allowing her husband to overrule her on things – usually after a fair amount of arguing - and Tim did not want to risk her health being one of those things they stood and argued about when she needed a decision to be made.

Doctor Mallard would understand the pros and cons of all avenues and she hoped he would make a clinical decision – free of emotion.

There was of course the team. But then chances would be that they would all be in the same situation as she was in a worst case scenario. And if it was just her? Well, she couldn't bring herself to trust any of them that much. She trusted them with her life in the field – it was their jobs after all – but not with something as personal as this.

"My dear Tim, it had been a while since you have addressed me so formally," he smiled at her.

She gulped. He was cleaning down one of the examination tables and although she had missed the autopsy her mind could fill in what she had missed. She was still getting used to seeing people…not alive.

"I…I…have something to ask you,"

The doctor looked at her, concern deep in his eyes.

"I will just pop the kettle on my dear. It is time for a break I think,"

"I didn't mean to disturb you," Tim stood in the door a little lost for what to do. She had hoped that she would find Ducky not doing anything as things had been a bit slow for most of the teams over the past couple of days but it looked like she had been wrong.

The doctor shook his head with a smiled as he peeled of his rubber gloves, binned them and went to wash his hands.

"You aren't disturbing me at all my dear, just keeping the dust from the tables. It is a blessing that things have been so quiet of late,"

She nodded at this.

While a bit dull, as it meant there was no excuse to continue putting of the filing and paperwork, it also meant that no bodies were coming their way which meant someone was alive and someone wasn't killing someone else.

She watched as Ducky filled the kettle and measures out the tealeaves. He was so precise and practised in his movements that Tim couldn't imagine him doing something so uncouth as throwing a teabag in a mug and letting it stew for longer than necessary because he had forgotten about it as she often did when she felt like something not so strong as coffee.

She remained silent, listening to him as he told her some obscure fact about the tea industry and the history of the teapot – just how did the man keep so much information in his head?

"There we are," Tim accepted the delicate cup and saucer and sat down when he gestured towards one of the two chairs at his desk.

"Now my dear," he took the seat opposite her and sighed after taking a sip from his own steaming cup, "What can I do for you?"

Tim sat the cup and saucer onto the table, not trusting herself with the delicate crockery while she was speaking. She was getting better with her nervousness around so many new people but there was no use in chancing things.

"I have to fill in some personal stuff again after transferring from Norfolk," she began.

"Yes," Ducky nodded, "Standard procedure I believe,"

"Some things didn't really matter when I was in an office at Norfolk but now that I am going to be out in the field there are some things I have had to put some thought into,"

Ducky nodded his head in understanding.

"You see I need an emergency contact and someone to act as my medical proxy if it was necessary," she rushed ahead now, gaining speed with each word, "I don't want to be asking more than you can handle, Ducky, but you see all of my family are out of town and the only one I would trust to make the decisions travels a lot and I could pick a member of the team but I don't feel like-"

"Tim, my dear girl, breath,"

Ducky had placed his tea to the side and was leaning forward to take her hands.

Tim did as she was told and took a breath.

"Now, if I understand you, you are asking that I be your contact and proxy?"

She nodded her head slowly.

"Surely there is someone closer to you that you could have on file?"

Tim shook her head.

"No. I've thought about it and there is no one, Ducky,"

She had. She had thought about it until her head had nearly popped. She had friends – despite what Tony mumbled about her social life – but this was not something she could bring herself to trust them with and the one…'friend' she thought she could, travelled almost as much as Penny.

"Timothy, you do realise that your emergency contact does not necessarily need to be the same person who is your medical proxy. Is there no one in your family you would want to have contacted first?"

"My little sister is still in school and I would rather she not be contacted in what would be a heat of the moment phone call,"

"I understand," Ducky leaned closer to her and smiled gently, "My dear, I do not wish to come across as…denying your wishes but you do realise that as a member of Jethro's team it would be natural for him to be your Proxy. Also should there be any unfortunate events it is almost a certainty that I would be informed and present at the hospital anyway,"

That answered that question. At least one of her teammates had chosen Gibbs. Well, this teammate wasn't going to be one of them.

The door sliding open put a stop to any thoughts she was about to make heard and Palmer walked in. His smile faded to a worried frown when he realised he was interrupting something.

"Oh, I'm sorry Doctor Mallard, Agent McGee…I'll ah…I'll just ah…" he turned around.

"It is quite al-" before Ducky could even finish his sentence Palmer was back out of the door and it had slid shut once again.

Ducky shook his head and Tim giggled.

"A good lad that," Ducky told her, "A bit of a worrier in some respects though, but the makings of a fine Medical Examiner,"

He reached for his tea that had been sitting safely on the table and took a sip.

"Now, Timothy. I will happily serve as your medical proxy should you wish it. But perhaps we should have a longer conversation, hm?"

"Of course, Ducky,"

"Wonderful. How would you like to come for dinner this Saturday?"

 **Hello my dears :)**

 **I love Ducky so I suppose you could say that a few of these are going to be PapaBearDucky/Tim related. After all there is a fair amount of rubbish – dog bites, poison ivy (although in all fairness no one can be blamed for that), mosquito infested hot tubs – that show-Tim has to put up with.**

 **Anyway, I really hope you are enjoying this FemTim short.**

 **Please let me know what you think.**

 **Take care and have a lovely day/evening.**

 **:)**


	4. Of Guests and Granddaughters

Tim loved Ducky's mother. She was forgetful it was true, but the way she had of coming out with the most random of observations and memories had Tim biting the inside of her cheek more than once to stop herself from laughing – that is, until she was certain laughter was acceptable (she followed Ducky's lead there).

In fact, Mrs Mallard had got it into her befuddled head that Tim was Ducky's illegitimate love-child – by all account the mild-mannered doctor had quite the life story that made a love-child more than believable.

"Finally Donald," Mrs Mallard had clapped her hands in glee when she had walked into the kitchen to find Tim assisting with the deserts, "A grandchild. And not just that. But a girl. Oh you clever boy,"

Tim had watched in wide eyed fascination as Mrs Mallard had stumbled her way over to her son, and pinched his cheeks in a show of her approval before shuffling over to Tim.

Tim who had a pie slicer in one hand and the serving spoon in the other stood almost terrified for a moment when Mrs Mallard had stopped in front of her, gave her a teary smile and wrapped her frail arms around her.

She had just stood frozen with her arms stretched out holding the utensils.

Ducky finally made a move from his slack jawed astonishment and had come to her rescue, gently peeling his mother from her and explaining once again just who she was.

"This is Timothy, Mother. She is one of the agents from work," he had patiently explained loudly.

"Where have you been hiding her, Donald?" his mother had demanded, batting him ineffectively on the shoulder, "And what sort of a name was Timothy to call my granddaughter,"

This did cause Tim to blush. If Ducky _had_ been her father she had no doubt he would have given her a girl's name instead of landing her with a boy's name all her life because he was disappointed that his child was born with the wrong 'bits'. Her father had no doubt been sadly disappointed to find that giving her a boy's name did not miraculously fix that for him.

"She is not my daughter mother, she is a workmate,"

"Nonsense, Donald. Now hush, I need to spend some time getting to know her," with that Mrs Mallard – "You must call me nana," – had turned from her son and took the slicer and spoon from her hand to thrust into his, "You never mind that, my dear, Donald will serve desert while we have a nice long talk,"

Her hand had been grasped by fingers that were all bone and she had been led from the kitchen while Ducky had followed in a panic.

"I am sorry, Tim," he hissed, "She will get bored soon," he assured her.

But Mrs Mallard had not got bored and was firmly set in her belief that her ungrateful offspring had purposefully been keeping Timothy from her.

Ducky say sipping on tea, his face flushed while Timothy took it in her stride. After all as far as eccentric grandparents – real or no – went, Mrs Mallard was in competition with Penny and at the moment she couldn't see who would win as both were equally so in their own way.

So Timothy just sat and listened with rapt attention as Mrs Mallard went from one story to the next and Tim found that the elderly woman had lived a fascinating life.

"Mother, I am sure Tim has had quite enough for one day," Timothy had been lost in Mrs Mallard's words and nearly jumped at the intrusion of Ducky's voice.

She glanced at the clock that sat ticking on the mantelpiece and her eyes widened. It was nearly seven and she hadn't even spoken to Ducky about her request yet.

Ducky came forward and helped his grumbling mother to her feet just as the doorbell rang and someone shouted hello.

A smiling – but obviously worn out – woman appeared in the sitting room door, her blue uniform announcing her to be a carer belonging to the 'Sunshine Assistant Group'. Sounded like one heck of a name to live up to. It made Tim feel tired just looking at the emblem on the woman's jacket.

"Now, Miss Davies is here to see you ready for bed," Ducky walked his mother – who waved happily at Tim – to the carer and handed her over.

"And how are you today, Mrs Mallard?" Miss Davies asked cheerily as they walked slowly out of sight.

"That is my granddaughter, you know?" Tim could hear Mrs Mallard confide in the other woman, "And unfortunate name but a lovely girl. My Donald –" her voice grew fainter.

"I am terribly sorry Timothy," Ducky rushed out, a frown creasing his forehead, "I have no idea what got into her,"

Tim rushed to assure him that there was nothing for him to be worried or sorry about.

"I loved listening to her stories. I can see were you get the habit from now," she smiled and he huffed out a chuckle.

"Still I am sorry you were placed in such a position,"

"Ducky, I honestly didn't mind…I _don't_ mind," and she didn't.

After getting over the initial shock of Mrs Mallard holding one of her hands in one of her own and using the other to pat or stroke it, while she looked at her as though she had hung the stars she had enjoyed the older woman's attention and stories.

Ducky seemed to finally accept that she had, in all honesty, not been scarred for life by the experience and she followed him into the kitchen. Tea, it seemed, was a staple of the Mallard day both at work and at home.

"She usually gets bored or forgets after a short time," he continued, as he prepared a fresh pot and set it on a tray complete with sugar, milk and two cups and saucers – Tim paled at the sight of all the breakables, "But she took a shine to you, my dear,"

Not knowing what to say to this Tim nodded her head mutely and followed Ducky back into the sitting room.

"I am sorry for the delay but if you have no objections, how about we have out little discussion now, hmm?"

"Of course,"

"Wonderful. But first things first," Ducky reached for the pot.

 **I LOVED the episode when Ducky brought his mum into work with him so when I had Tim going to their house for a meal things kind of went off track once again.**

 **I don't think I will be going into the nitty-gritty of their discussion but let's assume that after Tim tells Ducky how she came to her decision etc he agrees to fill the position of emergency contact and proxy. Cool? Cool!**

 **As always guys, comments are greatly appreciated and keep my fingers typing.**

 **Take care everyone, and have a lovely weekend.**

 **:)**


	5. Thoughts from Gibbs

His newest agent wasn't exactly run-way model material, Gibbs would admit that. Or even field agent material if he was being honest with himself. But she was keen and willing to learn.

Gibbs like to think that he didn't judge by appearances but there was no denying that Timothy McGee still had her fair share of puppy fat – no doubt that was not helped by the girl having a desk job at Norfolk. But Gibbs was pleased to see that Tim did not let that hold her back and she accepted every challenge that came her way.

Perhaps she was a little too willing to throw herself into a challenge as he had been forced to have a word with Kate when he had heard her and DiNozzo snickering about sending McGee out a first story window – quoting it as regulations to convince the 'probie' to do it. Perhaps her accepting nature wasn't all that good after all but she would learn soon enough to take things with a pinch of salt.

In the meantime though he wouldn't stand for unnecessary stunts that could lead to serious injuries – it was bad enough that he had to watch the young woman hold herself gingerly for a few days after her fall.

Small things to haze the new rookie in their team was one thing but a line had to be drawn.

* * *

Gibbs glared at Tony who was too busy acting like a self-congratulatory moron to pay him any attention.

Finally he seemed to notice that Gibbs was not amused and his laughter faded away.

"Come on boss, that was funny,"

Gibbs simply shook his head, slapped DiNozzo on the back of his and headed for autopsy.

"How is she, Duck?"

Gibbs entered to find Ducky seeing to McGee and the keyboard that had been superglued to her hands by the overgrown child he had just left.

"Ouch," McGee hissed.

Gibbs felt a pang in his chest when he saw tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She was blinking viciously and holding up well but he had a feeling she wouldn't hold up much longer.

Maybe he had been wrong to insist on Tim joining the team. After all, if this was how she reacted to a little bit of glue…

"I apologise my dear but there is no avoiding this,"

"It's alright Ducky,"

Gibbs walked up to the examination table that Tim was sitting on with Ducky leaning over her hands and peered over the doctor's shoulder.

Several fingers had been freed from the keyboard and one or two of them were bleeding.

"How's it going Duck?" he asked, truly concerned now at the sight of her slim fingers missing skin.

The doctor didn't even glance up from his task of swabbing at the pads of McGee's fingers with sections of bandage that stunk of acetone.

"Some skin is being left on the board as you can see and the fingers still stuck are burning from the glue, Jethro,"

"I'm fine, really,"

Gibbs ignored the young woman's words and continued to focus on Ducky's ministrations.

"I am, the burning doesn't feel so bad now," he glanced back up at her and she smiled at him – something she was usually too nervous to do…she had a pretty smile, "It just feels warm, almost nice,"

"Tony has gone too far this time, Jethro. This is hardly appropriate behaviour in the workplace or to expect from your senior agent,"

"I'll talk to DiNozzo," Gibbs mumbled.

Tony did need to draw a line with his jokes. This was not acceptable.

Gibbs left autopsy to the sound of Ducky suggesting wrapping the fingers that were bleeding and soaking her whole hand, keyboard and all, in a basin of the solution.

It looked like he was going to be shy one computer genius for a little while.

He pressed the button and waited none too patiently for the elevator door to slide open.

It was time he got it through Tony's thick skull that if he pulled this stunt again the skin might not grow back next time.

* * *

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped when he returned to the bullpen to the sound of dog barking coming from McGee's computer and Tim tumbling from her chair to land painfully on the floor. He watched as her head struck the partition as she fell and the little colour she had drained from her face in record time.

Her face was almost glittering with the sudden sweat the fright had caused.

"Yes Boss," Tony stood rapidly.

"McGee, go and see Ducky," he told the young woman who was being helped to stand by an obviously furious Ziva.

"But Gibbs-"

"It wasn't a suggestion, Tim,"

"I shall accompany her down to autopsy, Gibbs," Ziva spoke while throwing a glare that could kill a corpse in Tony's direction.

"Come along, McGee," Ziva wrapped an arm around Tim's waist, "A cup of tea will be most welcome, yes?"

Gibbs waited silently – more than happy to let Tony stew for a while – for the two women to get into the elevator and the doors to close before he approached Tony.

"You thought that was funny, Tony?"

He spoke low, not wanting to involve the whole floor in the discussion, but he noticed more than one set of eyes focusing on them.

"It kinda was, boss," Tony admitted with a little shrug.

Before Tony had the chance to blink at him his hand shot out and collided with the back of his agent's head.

Tony rubbed at his skull, wincing.

"Would you play a gun shot at someone injured in the line of fire," Gibbs struggled to keep hold of his temper.

Tony frowned at the question.

"Course not, boss,"

"Then why the hell," he snarled, "Would you have dogs barking on the computer of someone who has just been attacked by one, Tony? What the hell where you thinking?"

"It was funny though, you should have seen her face," Tony rambled.

"I saw her face Tony, and what I saw was anything but funny." He leaned in close to Tony's ear, "You will apologise, and you will never pull a stunt like this again,"

"But boss, McGee-"

"Am I understood, DiNozzo,"

"Yes Boss," Tony sulked.

"Good,"

Gibbs stormed in the direction of the staircase. He needed to get rid of some of his ager before he reached autopsy and walking down the stairs was the next best thing to dragging Tony to the gym and working it out that way.

DiNozzo needed to think before he acted.

 **Hi everyone.**

 **I hope you enjoyed a little look into Gibb's head. :)**

 **Let me know what you think.**

 **Enjoy the rest of your Sunday and I will see you tomorrow with another update.**

 **:)**


	6. Justifications

Thanks to a lifetime of being bullied and victimized for her intelligence and anything else that could be picked to pieces by people who had nothing better to do, Tim had come to the decision that there was no such thing as boys against girls. Men against women. 'Them' against 'us.

There was just the popular kids against everybody else.

But that never stopped her from hoping.

* * *

When Tim had first met Kate she had allowed herself to hope. She had allowed herself to think that it was all part of some hazing when Tony ordered her to stay at the stripped crime scene. Kate had not stuck up for her or approached her to tell her that Tony was joking about. No. Tim had watched them glance towards her and smile between themselves.

She knew that her presence was not required all night – or at all – and that that was something they assumed she did not know.

Just hazing, she told herself. Just hazing.

* * *

Just a bad day.

Tim repeated inwardly when she had been fitting cables beneath Kate's desk and the agent had rolled her chair into her shoulder. Kate had been furious at her being there and Tim had stuttered and stammered her way through an explanation while rubbing at her throbbing shoulder and trying not to cry. She wanted to be an agent who worked in this building, who went out in the field. She could take being yelled at a little. She was just doing her job and trying to help by setting things up it was true but she had given Kate a fright by being under her desk like that.

After all, Kate was just having a bad day.

* * *

Just working her annoyance out of her system. That was all Kate was doing. She hadn't meant it maliciously. She just hadn't thought things through.

That's what Tim told herself when Kate made her climb out of the first story window, both of her shoulders and arms aching from having the smaller woman use her as ladder to gain entrance into the house.

If she wanted to be a field agent she could handle climbing out a window. She knew that Kate was still angry about the earlier incident and even as she rolled of the roof and landed painfully in the ground she found herself thinking that Kate wouldn't have made her do it if she knew just how clumsy Tim could be.

She would be hurting all over in the morning. Already she could feel the bruises blooming and the muscles in her legs and arms stiffening more and more. But it was fine. It was nothing that some painkillers and a hot bath wouldn't solve.

Kate had only been angry. She hadn't thought it through. That was all.

* * *

Honest.

That was all Kate was being when a 'mother' for DiNozzo's fictitious child was needed for them to get access to some files. Tim had hoped that she would finally have the chance to show them what she could do. But the chance had not come.

When Kate looked her up and down from the top of her head to her thick soled shoes and raised a brow it had hurt. But, standing in the ladies toilet, washing her hands, she studied her reflection in the mirror above the sinks.

A chubby face – a double chin that was shrinking though – a blouse that was a little tight across her back and arms – showing the rolls of fat - she quickly shrugged on her baggy jacket. She didn't even want to think about her legs.

She had understood the raised brow.

'Really?' it had said, 'Tony would not go for you. Even a pretend Tony,"

She glanced back in the mirror.

And Kate was right.

She was just being honest.

* * *

Tim's patience and acceptance finally broke the day they broke into her apartment under the pretext of fetching her for work.

Both of them smug and self-assured as they saunter about her tiny living room, picking up her knickknacks and studying her shelves. She had been too shocked by their sudden appearance and the thought that Gibbs might be mad at her tardiness to give the situation much attention until later.

And when she did she was furious!

There was no excuse. None! She had a perfectly working bell. How dare they!

Had they done this before and she hadn't known?

Her little sister had been in the apartment with her and Tim did not like the idea of anyone – even people she worked with – just letting themselves into her home via her lock-picked door.

The first thing she did upon getting back to her apartment was clean. Everywhere.

Books came of shelves, the TV and the computer were unplugged to be cleaned behind. The vents in her walls and floors were vacuumed and her bathroom was bleached within an inch of its life. Her bed was stripped and the sheets changed.

Despite it all Tim's skin still itched and she felt uneasy.

Her home, her space, had been violated. She wanted to strip the wall paper from the walls, paint everywhere, and tear up the flooring… Anything to erase the presence of two people who had not been invited into her home.

Tim slumped against the wall, rubber gloves still on her hands and smelling of disinfectant.

If they did that again while she was in the apartment she would shoot them as intruders. Just see if she wouldn't. And she wouldn't miss.

A tear slowly gathered at the corner of her eye, growing fatter until the weight dragged it down her cheek.

She wiped it away quickly but she couldn't stop the others from falling.

She looked up at her door. The lock would be the first this to be changed in the morning and she would make sure it was harder to pick.

No, there was no such thing as 'them' against 'us'. There was just her against them. And she would win.

* * *

 **Yeah…I'm not really a big fan of Kate. There was a few episodes where I found her OK but most of the time she just really got up my nose…**

 **Please let me know what you think.**

 **Thank you for all the awesome reviews! I also understand if this is not up everyone's street but thank you for giving it a try anyway :)**

 **Take care. :)**

 **x**


	7. The Partying Habits of Geeks 1 of 5

Tony's Probie Radar pinged almost the instant McGee began to speak to her caller. The unprofessional 'Oh Hey" she smiled into the phone having him sit up and pay attention.

Their resident computer expert was not taking a call to do with work. Or if she was she had decided to go for the casual approach - something that was very un-McGee, so non-work it was.

"Yes, I am still on for tonight,"

Tonight? What was happening tonight? In a random streak of good luck – something that had been tragically lacking for them (and more so the dead sailors whose deaths they were investigating) over the past few months – there week had been of the standard length with no extra hours needing to be pulled.

Tony smelled a McMystery and he was going to solve it.

Timothy McGee was a bit of an all-round enigma when all was said and done. Unless it was something to do with work she was very quiet in the office and he would admit that she did talk about her computer stuff his eyes would glaze over. It was true that none of them really talked about their families but both he and Ziva had had more than one semi-significant other over the years and Tim…well, in all honesty he didn't even know if she interested in men or women. For all he knew nerds – OK geniuses – of her calibre had to go on some kind of _March of the Penguins_ style exodus to hook up.

But it looked like he was finally going to learn something to add to his McGee Info.

"What!?" Tim's sudden shriek had all of them looking over at her desk now and Tony glanced over at Ziva to find her frowning with concern at their teammate. Gibbs too was looking with narrowed eyes towards McGee.

"The flu? I didn't know there was a flu bug going around," Tim spoke, unaware of the three of them watching her with concern and in Tony's case fascination.

"I know it's not his fault," Tim sighed in exasperation.

"No, I'll think of something,"

Tim was rubbing her eyes now. Whoever this person was they were obviously giving her a headache. Tony wondered just who it could be. After all, once she had gotten used to the whole dead body thing, Tim could face down anything without flinching out in the field. What could this person be saying to make her reach for the aspirin bottle like she was doing just now?

"Well...can't you fill his space? We can do without one-"

"Fine I will think of something,"

"What!"

"Ok, fine, _I'll_ do it. I have something at home that should do and we'll not make it past phase 1 anyway,"

A look of mock insult flitted across her face for a moment.

"Hey! I am more than capable thank you and it was your suggestion,"

"Yes I know the rules,"

"I'll think of someone, Lowery don't worry about it ok,"

Tim finally seemed to sense the eyes on her and looked up, scanning the desks.

Gibbs continued to stare, Ziva smiled and went back to her work and Tony, well he wasn't one to get ashamed for nosying in on someone else conversation – even if it was only one half of it – so he just smiled and continued to watch and listen.

Just what was one Timothy McGee more than capable of? His mind ran wild with that sentence. It wasn't anything to do with work so… Oh, the possibilities were endless. Was there a naughty school girl under that geekish exterior that burst free on occasion?

He tilted his head to the side and studied her for a second.

She had lost some weight over the last year or so but as she had the tendency to wear the least flattering clothing on the planet it was difficult to tell just how much apart from the slimmer quality to her face. While Ziva wore clothes that were both serviceable and complementary to her figure Tim just went for serviceable.

Tony tried to think back over the years of cases and working out in the gym. He couldn't even remember ever seeing her bare arms. She always wore sleeves. Strange how he had never picked up on that before. And cleavage? Did she even have any?

A pen colliding with the side of his head - curtesy of Ziva - had him blinking out of his thoughts and shooting a glare at her before focusing again on Tim. Damn it! How much of the conversation had he missed?

"Yes, I'll be in plenty of time to go over it. We are just wrapping up now,"

They were writing up the paperwork for the last case and before Tim had gotten the phone-call Tony had been rushing to get his completed.

"Don't worry I'll think of someone,"

"Yes, OK, see you then,"

The caller obviously went on another tirade as Tim sighed.

"Lowery, it is all for fun, don't take it too hard if things don't go well,"

"Right, OK, we'll try our best, bye now,"

The receiver went down on the base with a decisive click and Tony wasn't surprised that the first thing she did was apologies to Gibbs.

"Sorry about that, Boss," she blushed, before going straight back to work, her fingers flying across the keyboard with an ease Tony could never hope to master.

He stood and sauntered over to her desk to perch on the edge. He couldn't just let this go, it was far too juicy for that.

"Hot date tonight, McGee?"

Tim didn't even look up at him – wow that hurt – but he could just make out her rolling her eye at the screen.

She didn't answer him.

"Come on McGee. Spill," he whined.

"Tony, I am trying to finish my work. Isn't that something you should be doing too?"

Not when there were the private lives of probie's to snoop into that was for sure.

"Ashamed of your new paramour," he teased, "Tut tut tut, that's not very nice,"

Tony knew from experience if he went on long enough she would tell him what he wanted to know just to get him to go away. To his surprise she broke very quickly.

She stopped typing and whipped her head up to look at him.

"I am going to a party tonight, happy?"

"With this Larrie?" he queried innocently.

"It's Lowery and he is going but we are not going 'together'," she sighed and then her eyes narrowed, "The party is invitation only DiNozzo, so-"

Tony raised his hands in surrender, stood up and backed away dramatically from her desk.

"The thought never even crossed my mind," he lied as he took his seat and picked up with his work.

Tony knew what he was doing with his evening.

 **Hi everyone, I am so sorry for the wee delay with this chapter. Yesterday was exhausting and I just didn't have the time to get logged on a posted. So I am posting one now (07:20) and I will post another one tonight to catch us up :)**

 **This is the first of a connected 5 parter and the idea is ridiculous I will admit. But if you have made it through a musical version of a TV show (or maybe even Dirty Dancing) it might be OK :)**

 **Please don't forget to leave me a wee comment.**

 **Take care**

 **x**


	8. The Partying Habits of Geeks 2 of 5

Tim finished off her work as fast as she could without making any stupid errors, tidied her desk, packed her bag, said goodbye to the team, ignored Tony's waggling eyebrows and headed to the elevator.

These were the days she loved. The days were there was no dead body to collect, no murderer to find and they could leave at their regular time without asking Gibbs for his permission.

As she stepped into the metal box and turned she caught sight of Tony watching her like she was the most interesting thing on the planet. It was irritating.

Wanting to head down to autopsy but having no desire for her nosy teammate to know this she pressed the button for the lobby. Once the door opened again she stood where she was, received an odd look from some of the agents just milling around and pressed the button for her true destination.

The windowless and sometimes gloomy (despite the bright lighting) environment had taken her a while to get used to, but now that she had become so close to the Medical Examiner who ruled over it she found it almost comforting. Her taste buds tingling at the thought of tea with plenty of sugar.

The doors whooshed open and she hitched her bag onto her shoulder better as she stepped into the slightly chilly room.

She smiled a hello at Jimmy as the assistant raised his head from where he was polishing up a table and he waved with the cloth before returning to his task– things were slow down here too it would seem.

Ducky was sat at one of the other tables, paperwork filling the entire shiny surface, the lamp above it shining brightly despite the fact that the whole room was already brighter than the bullpen.

It wasn't until the doors whooshed shut behind her that Ducky glanced up from his papers. The slightly faraway look in his eyes telling her that he had been deep in thought. It took a moment or two for his expression to clear and when it did his eyes lit up and he smiled at her.

"Timothy, my dear," he pushed himself away from the table and stood from the stool.

"Hi Ducky, I'm just heading out now," she told him, once again shrugging the bag higher onto her shoulder. Annoying thing!

"Ah yes, indeed, tonight is the night," he chuckled.

She laughed nervously.

"Yeah, um, I was wondering if I could use your phone. I didn't want to use the one at my desk, Tony is being a bit…um…"

"No need to say anymore, my dear. My telephone and desk are at your disposal,"

* * *

Andy had the flu. Most inconvenient.

Tim had been racking her brains for a replacement since she had hung up on Lowery. She knew the rules.

You were allowed to make one change within the team – something that had already been done by her taking his place in the act (who knew how _that_ was going to turn out) – and if someone dropped out you had to find a replacement from another agency. The idea had been to stop too many last minute changes of the 'sorry it has been a busy week and I want an early night' variety, but there was no leeway for genuine illness. It simplified things. But right now it made her life very complicated.

In her line of work everyone collected contacts, like kids collected cards or stickers.

It didn't matter who or what you were. Director. Agent. Computer Tech. Scientist. Lawyer. Everyone had their own little network to call upon. And as she had her foot in more than one camp and with more than one agency her pool of associates was a little more varied than was to be expected from someone in her position.

As NCIS was out completely. Their team had been cemented over six months ago when they had submitted their form. Damn it. There was something else she would have to do. She would have to go online and submit a 'Last Minute Screw Up' form.

CIA was out also. Her only regular contact there was out of the country and the team tended to get a little too competitive. If she brought in one of their own there was no telling what they would do. Tim could not be bothered with the drama.

FBI? That might work. She sorted through her mental list of names and faces. She giggled at the thought of Fornell up on a stage being serenaded to.

Another name, another face. Nope.

And another, and another.

Nope. Nope.

Langer! Brent Langer. He had worked at NCIS for a while – a little before her time true – and she knew him mainly through her assisting the FBI on the occasional cyber case. He seemed nice enough whenever she came across him and when he had been involved with a case involving NCIS he hadn't acted like they knew each other. She could just imagine how Tony would have reacted to that.

Bingo.

Now, all she had to do was get in contact with him.

* * *

Langer yawned and looked at his watch.

Time to head home. It had been a dull day of paperwork and the whole office trying to fix their own computer problems – something about the IT and Cyber department working on a skeleton staff for the day and evening. Funnily enough he could vaguely remember something like this happening the year before. Were they all being sent on some sort of regular course?

He shrugged. It didn't matter. Things would be back to normal next week and no more agents would be pulling out their hair because they tried to do something above their intelligence level on their computer.

He began to close the open windows on his screen when his desk-phone rang.

A part of him was tempted to ignore it. It would be something that would have him kissing goodbye to his beer and steak. He could sense it. But years of habit couldn't be ignored and he picked it up.

"Langer," he spoke into the receiver.

There was a moment of silence until a soft voice finally spoke.

"Um, Brent Langer?"

"Yip,"

He began to shut down his computer. If it was important they would not be beating about the bush like this.

"This is Timothy McGee, I don't know if you remember me or not. We've, uh, we've worked together a couple of times,"

"Yeah. Sure I remember, NCIS right?" he spoke casually but his heart skipped a beat.

He remembered her all right. She was Fornell's little project and she had been brought in quite a few times to crack a code or follow a trail that their own had found impossible to do.

He had found her cute. The way she would focus on the task at hand the way she did. He was sure the building could burn down around her and she would still keep her eyes glued to the screen and her fingers flying across the keyboard.

He had flirted with her slightly, enjoying the way she blushed at the attention, until Fornell had warned him away with threats of pulling weekends and nights for the next year.

Langer had toned down the flirting and found that the woman had opened up a lot more and had been a pleasure to be around when they started talking.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't been _very_ surprised to find she was on Gibbs' team but he kept his mouth shut as it was obvious that her team (and her team leader) were unaware of her being loaned out to the FBI on a semi-regular basis. He had to admit, he found it adorable that she could still blush after working with DiNozzo for so long.

It had been a few months since he had last worked a case she had been brought in on and he wondered if that blush was still in existence.

"Yes, that's right," came her soft reply.

"How can I help you, Agent McGee,"

"Umm…well…"

* * *

Langer hung up the phone and just stared at it for a moment or two before he began to laugh. It started of low and grew until he was leaning back in his chair with his head thrown back.

Other agents simply glanced up from their own work, frowned at him and returned to what there were doing.

Eventually he calmed down and finished packing up for the night.

Once he was alone in the elevator on the way to the ground floor he began to chuckle again.

"She wants my body," he wheezed, smiling madly.

* * *

 **I liked Langer :) and I just couldn't resist getting him in to these one-shots-that-aren't-quite-one-shots-anymore.**

 **Have a grand evening/day everyone and take care.**

 **Hope you enjoyed having a new face thrown into the mix. :)**

 **PS – Gibbs will become aware of the attempted theft of HIS agent by Fornell in a future chapter. ;)**


	9. The Partying Habits of Geeks 3 of 5

"Boss! We need to do something about this!"

Ziva rolled her eyes. Tony always seemed to overreact where Tim was concerned and it was getting a little ridiculous. Poor Tim couldn't even go on a little date without Tony trying to put an end to it.

She leaned back against the wall of the elevator and just watched the two men talk.

"How did you find out?"

"Gibbs," Ziva straightened immediately, "Don't encourage him,"

A look had her snapping her jaw shut and glaring at the men.

If she ever found out they did this whenever she had a date with a new person she would kill them both. And never be caught.

Tony shot her a smug smile and her fingers itched to hit him.

"Philips said he saw McGee come up from autopsy so I went and asked Palmer,"

"You threatened him," she coolly observed.

"I asked the gremlin nicely, Ziva," he insisted.

"Well, what do you want to do about it Tony?"

* * *

Ziva did not approve of them spying on McGee but found herself being dragged along by Tony anyway. She was sure that Gibbs was not happy with the idea either but by the way she saw him looking at Tony she was sure he was only with them to keep his agent in check. Ziva was glad of this. Although she had no compunctions about using force to stop Tony if it looked like he was about to do something detrimental she would rather not, and Gibbs had the power to stop him with a look or a word. Or a head slap. That would do the job too.

She was sure that the mention of Langer also had Gibbs concerned about Tim but Ziva was certain he would have respected her privacy and left her alone if Tony hadn't set out of this ridiculous crusade.

At the moment she and Gibbs were standing behind Tony who was trying to talk the bouncer into letting them into the building.

The large man wasn't shifting.

"Look, these are nice folks," the man boomed after having enough of Tony's obvious lies, "They are just looking to have a good night. Don't go causing trouble," the man folded his arms across his chest.

Ziva smiled, respecting the man's actions. He was no going to move for Tony.

"Boss!" Tony whined, turning to face Gibbs.

Gibbs sighed and stepped forwards, pushing a disgruntled Tony to the side.

She watched a little annoyed as Gibbs used his badge to gain access to the building.

This wasn't fair on Tim.

* * *

They ducked into the building, the dim lighting helping to hide the fact that they were the ones who would actually be sticking out if the lights were on full.

She followed Gibbs and Tony over to the bar, weaving through groups of people who were just standing and talking or laughing.

She noticed quickly that although pointed ears and elaborate hairstyles were on display for all to see, everybody was covered from neck to knees in jackets or ponchos.

Just what was happening here?

Having reached the bar she took up a study of the footwear.

Boots. Sneakers. Sandles.

She shook her head. Unless she wrestled a jacket from someone there would be no way of knowing what they were dressed in.

"Ziva," Gibbs holding out a can of coke to her had her dragging her attention back to her two companions.

Tony too was standing with a can in his hand, his eyes wide as he took in the room, his forehead creasing occasionally as he tried to peer closer at someone in the dimness.

"I think we have entered Geekdom," he announced.

She hit him hard on the arm when his observation caused several heads to swivel in their direction.

"Keep your voice down," she snapped, "You are the uninvited one here, remember DiNozzo?"

Gibbs grabbing both of them by the back of the neck and spinning them to face the bar broke off whatever Tony was going to snap back at her.

"They're here, now keep it down," Gibbs snapped.

Ziva rolled her shoulders and forced herself to relax, to make it look like she belonged as much as she could. But she couldn't quite stop the slight twitch of her muscles when she caught sight of Tim being led to the bar out of the corner of her eye.

They were only several stools away from them.

Now that she was straining to hear what was being talked about between Tim and the FBI agent she found herself noticing the music. It wasn't your typical bar music, no thumping beats. It was almost…soothing if it wasn't for the occasional tune that picked up speed. It was also being played low enough for everyone to speak comfortably which was why those nearby had heard Tony's comment. And why right now they could easily listen into Tim's conversation.

At the moment there was nothing really to hear as individuals drifted over to greet Tim.

She used the chance of having Tim's attention taken up with other things to study her.

Ziva could only see her head through the constantly moving group that had gathered around her teammate. She was surprised by what she saw. All the time that Ziva had known Timothy she had only ever seen her with her hair in a horse-tail (was that the name?) or in a bun. Now her hair was down, and not just that, there was not a strand of brown hair to be seen. It had been dyed a white blonde and was wild about her head. Silvery blue glitter surrounded her eyes and a deadly red lipstick highlighted the paleness of her makeup-smoothed complexion.

Once the last member of the group seemed to arrive Tim introduced Langer to them all as their 'Knight in shining armour'. The group cheered, some drinks being raised high in solute.

"Boss, aren't they all from the basement?" she heard Tony ask beneath his breath.

Ziva scrutinized the group more closely.

Yes. He was right.

Beneath the brown, blue and red face paint, lay the features of some of the NCIS Cybercrimes unit.

Now that she noted the face paint her attention was drawn to the others costume pieces.

One had floppy brown ears.

One had feathery red/brown ears rising high like a foxes.

Another had wispy blue hair rising from their eyebrows.

Interesting.

Langer she noticed had nothing different about his face, but like the other was still wearing something to cover his clothes.

The sound of drumming coming from stage that none of them had noticed and the conversations about the room dyed down as everyone looked to the man standing with a microphone in his hand.

"Well…we've made it," he announced as a spot light landed on him.

Cheers erupted around the room.

"After the chanting of many spells and the aligning of many dimensions – or in some cases the collecting of many favours-" chuckles came from the audience, "We are here,"

Another loud cheer.

"I welcome you to the 4th annual 'Our Employers Wouldn't Let Us Out of the Building for It, Non-Comic-Con Con!"

The cheer that rose from the crowd was almost deafening and Ziva exchanged looks with Gibbs and Tony. It was no secret. All of them felt like fish out water in this situation.

Once silence fell around them again after some prompting from the announcer they listened as he announced various agencies.

As each agency was called a section of the audience would whoop and cheer.

"And then we have the Navy contingent. Where are you NCIS?"

The group at the bar raised their hand high and cheered to the room.

"Now we have one change this evening. Give it up for Agent Langer of the FBI who will be stepping into the breach for NCIS,""

There were stuttered claps about the room and Langer bowed to the call of 'turncoat' from the direction of the group from the FBI.

"Let the show begin!" cried the announcer and at that all the jackets, ponchos and on occasion bin-liners came off to reveal what was beneath.

 **Sorry once against this did end up going on much longer than I intended.**

 **Anyway,** **I really hope you are enjoying these.**

 **Hint for NCIS constumes…Labyrinth!**

 **Please let me know what you think.**

 **Take care everyone.**

 **:)**


	10. The Partying Habits of Geeks 4 of 5

"Crap," Tim wailed as she hooked her foot around the leg of a stool to move it away from the bar and took a seat.

"What?" Langer asked in obvious confusion, "We got through didn't we,"

"Yeah but we weren't supposed to," she groaned, "I'm sorry Langer,"

"Why?" Langer took a seat next to her and leaned in close, trying to get a look at her face.

"I didn't mean to throw you in at the deep end like this. We have never got through to the second round,"

"Why not. You were all really good,"

Tim shrugged.

"Every year so far the CIA has won, they're very competitive. And the FBI or the police department have taken it in turns to go against them,"

"So what? Now it's your turn," he reasoned.

Tim slumped forward her forehead thumping against the bar loudly.

"This isn't my thing?" she finally moaned into the wood.

"What do you mean? What do you usually do?" he was very confused now.

"I usually do the technical side of things. The music and lighting programming, that stuff,"

"Well," Langer hit the bar, "This year you are on that stage and we are going to win," he waved to the barman.

"What can I get you?"

"Some courage for the lady,"

"I don't think she needs it," he winked at Tim and she blushed a deep pink beneath her makeup, "But you got it,"

"I need to be able to walk," Tim spoke dejectedly into the bar, hiding her red face. Not that it made much difference, the blush had reached the tips of her ears.

"So," Langer began while the courage was being poured, "What is act two?"

Tim slowly turned her head until her cheek was pressed against the bar and studied the man beside her.

"I serenade you. How are you at improvised dance moves?"

Langer knocked on the bar and the barman turned to him.

"Pour me some of that too will you,"

* * *

Ziva could not wait for McGee to get back on the stage and she was thoroughly enjoying the way that Gibbs and Tony had gone very quiet.

"Tim was…" she tried to think of the word, ah, yes, "Hot, was she not?"

Both men cleared their throats and she smiled wickedly out of the corner of her lips.

With the bustling crowd once the covers had come off none of them had been able to see Tim through the sea of elves, fairies and to Ziva's surprise Vikings.

So it had come as an eye-opening surprise when their teammate had joined the rest of the NCIS team on the stage as what was announced as the first act of the evening began.

Ziva wasn't ashamed to say her jaw had unhinged along with Gibbs' and Tony's at the sight of Timothy McGee.

Knee high leather boots with a heel like nothing Ziva had seen the other woman wear. Skin tight grey leggings highlighting just how much weight the other woman had lost over the past year or so. A lace shirt with the long sleeves puffing out about her arms. And over the shirt a black corset that hugged her waist and pushed out her bust to show a pendant sitting against her pale skin. Ziva was sure the corset had been a present from Abby at some point in time.

Whistles and catcalls had come from the audience and Tim had looked adorably surprised by the reaction.

The other members of the team had got into position after each gave a twirl and a bow to the appreciative audience to display their costumes.

Ziva had been confused as to just what was going on.

The one with the tall ears appeared to be a fox but then she was also dressed in a costume that made her look like a beefeater from the tower of London.

Another looked like a dog of some kind wearing fluffy boots and a furry costume.

And then there was the one with the blue eyebrows ad face paint. There was a red scarf about their neck but that was the only break from the various shades of blue they were wearing.

The lights had dimmed once everyone was in place and then music started and the lights came up to highlight the individuals on the stage.

"You remind me of the babe," crooned McGee and Ziva realised that she had never before heard her teammate sing.

She was good.

Tim looked truly terrified for a few seconds while her mouth sang the words until she began to focus on the music. Ziva had watched as McGee had begun to tap out the beat with her foot and then bit by bit her whole body came into action.

With the other members of the 'cast' whispering in backing lines Tim carried the song, even managing to pull off a decent cha-cha, turning from one costumed person to the next.

Ziva hardly even noticed when Langer appeared on the stage dressed in nothing more fantastic that a pair of jeans and a white shirt covered in a waistcoat. He ran onto the stage long enough for Tim to say some lines into his ears and then leave again.

The room erupted when the lights dimmed with the final note of music and the NCIS contingent looked astonished at the cheering crowd and couldn't get off the stage fast enough while the announcer came over the speakers to say it would be a hard act to match.

And it had been.

She had watched as elves, Vikings and skeletons performed their acts and although she could be accused of being biased, none of them matched the NCIS performance.

"What the hell in Langer doing here," Tony whined from the other side of Gibbs, "If that is all he is going to do?"

Gibbs remained silent and Ziva shrugged.

"Perhaps he will be more involved in the next act?"

Ziva followed Tony's eyes along the bar to where Langer appeared to be coaxing Tim into having a drink. She heard the word 'courage' over the now noisier room. The FBI agent was standing next to a sitting Tim who looked like she had just lost instead of it being announced that it was Goblins vs Vikings (whatever the goblin comment meant) to decide on the winner.

"I don't want Langer involved with anything to do with Tim," Tony snapped.

She rolled her eyes but rubbed her hands gleefully against her legs. She couldn't wait to see what Tim had in store for them next.

 **Hi guys.**

 **Remember now, this is pure silliness and was written with no intention of being serious or as a situation that could actually happen. :)**

 **Tomorrow will be the last part of this little group. :)**

 **Please let me know what you think. Enjoy your Friday night everyone.**

 **:)**


	11. The Partying Habits of Geeks 5 of 5

Tony was not comfortable with this 'other' Tim. Not one little bit. And he wished Gibbs would let him order something other than soda from the barman. He needed something stronger.

Tim – for all the grief he gave her – was like a little sister to him – and grief giving was part of a big brothers job anyway – and he did not like the fact that for the very first time, tonight was making him see her as a woman and not just the Probie of the team.

It was very uncomfortable realising that men saw her as attractive. Well, he knew she was attractive, of course she was, but she had very firmly been in the 'little sister' box for years and she was staying there. And watching Langer stand beside her at the bar, his arm around her shoulder…Well, it made him want to slug the other man.

He was all over her and if Tony saw that hand of his go into any 'red light zones', staying undercover be damned he would be over there faster than you could say 'broken jaw'.

* * *

Gibbs was finding this side of Timothy McGee very interesting. To see her jumping about a stage with people she obviously felt comfortable with was slightly off-putting and for the first time Gibbs realised how little he knew about his genius agent.

The major question he was fixating on at the moment was a certain FBI agent.

Just how did she know him?

* * *

Ziva was loving this side of Tim as she watched the other woman be handed a glass of something by Langer and swallow all of the contents in one gulp.

She was used to the agent side of Tim. The agent who followed every order howled – no that wasn't it…barked? That was it – at them by Gibbs and put up with the pranks that Tony aimed her way with the patience of Job. She was always well put together with her hair pulled back from her face and very little – if any – makeup.

And now she was at a bar, her hair down and dyed, the makeup she wore making her eyes sparkle and obviously flirting with an agent from another agency.

Still waters run deep indeed, she smiled to herself.

* * *

"I haven't had nearly enough alcohol for this," Tim mourned the loss of her liquid courage as she was all but dragged along the corridor that led to the stairs that came up behind the stage.

"You can pull out now you know. I did promise you a 'stand and do nothing' role," she was nearly begging now.

Langer just ignored her as he brought them to a stop at the side of the curtain.

She stood still while someone fixed the microphone into her hair so that it sat at the top of her forehead.

She was going to kill the moron for coming down with the flu and putting her in this position.

She didn't mind doing the fun stuff like 'Dance Magic' had been. It was basically a case of stepping to the beat of the music as near to matching the You Tube videos of the Cha Cha she had quickly managed to watch as she could.

This was different though.

"What do you want me to do?" Langer asked as he held her in place to keep her from rushing back to the bar for another drink.

"It is going to be a slow dance to match the music…we'll…improvise,"

She gulped.

This was going to be so embarrassing.

"You hunt down killer for a living," Langer whispering in her ear had her shivering, "You can do this,"

"I can do this," she whispered.

 _If my knees stop turning to jelly._

* * *

Langer smiled and shook his head fondly at the NCIS agent.

She didn't seem to realise that all she would have to do was show up on the stage and they would win. She was gorgeous.

"Stop worrying," he used his reassurance as an excuse to wrap his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. She sagged against him.

"This is going to be horrible," she moaned.

"Look, you know your words don't you?"

She shot him a 'Do I look stupid?' glare.

"Of course I do,"

"There then. Half the battle is won,"

"And now," a voice bellowed at the other side of the curtain and the chattering of the crowd hushed, "We welcome back for round two – for the first time – NCIS!"

Music began to play.

* * *

Everybody was crowding about the stage now, and Ziva - deciding that she wasn't going to be struggling to see for the next five or so minutes and not wanting to risk having her view blocked if she did find a spot - heaved herself up onto the stool and with one hand on Gibbs' shoulder and another on Tony's balanced herself.

Tony was not happy with this plan.

"Ziva!" he snapped.

"Shh Tony, it is starting,"

A drum beat thudded through their chests, seeming to get into their ribs and shake their bones. It continued to beat, almost like the thumping of a heart. Violin music strained in the background.

The lights on the stage dimmed until the curtain was lit by red and orange lights that flowed and pulsed like blood through a heart.

And then from the side of the curtain, Tim came gliding onto the stage in the arms of Brent Langer.

She looked tiny compared to the broad muscles of the FBI agent.

Tony tensed and Ziva squeezed extra hard on his shoulder. A silent order to behave.

They swooped gently around the stage for a few strains and then Tim's blood red lips began to move, trembling slightly as she breathed in.

Her voice, obviously roughened by the alcohol she had been drinking only a few minutes ago came out rough and seductive.

" _How you turn my world you precious thing,_ " Langer dipped her and they saw her hand go to the back of his neck to support herself.

Langer only had eyes for her as he held her there, ignoring the audience entirely.

Years of training in work there, Ziva noted with approval.

* * *

Tony flinched when a wicked grin came to Tim's blood red mouth and she raised her head slightly until her lips where only a hairs breadth away from Langer's. This was just wrong.

* * *

She sang her words, her lips grazing his in the lights.

" _You starve and near exhaust me_ ,"

Langer lifted her from the dip and they spun until their fronts were plastered together.

The lights which had been focused on them since they danced onto the stage throwing a bewitching shadow of the two of them against the curtain.

Their legs moved smoothly and they breathed steadily against each other.

Ziva could feel both men shift beneath her hands and she smiled. Perhaps Tim would find herself going undercover on the next assignment.

One of Tim's hands was now resting on Langer's chest, thumping out the beat of the drums with her palm.

" _Everything I've done, I've done for you_ ,"

Her hand snaked up his chest to the back of his head and pulled him down, singing low into his ear.

" _I move the stars for no-one,"_

* * *

Tim could hardly breathe as she left the stage.

What the hell had come over her?

Langer jumped down the last few stairs and whooped and the next thing she knew she was in his arms being swung about.

"You killed them!" he crowed.

"I did?"

"You were amazing!" he placed her pack on her feet – which were killing her thanks to the heels.

"I was?"

"McGee, the trophy will be NCIS's this year. I guarantee it,"

* * *

Ziva couldn't remember having enjoyed herself so much in months and was debating whether or not to thank Tony for dragging her along on this ridiculous 'mission'. Considering that his and Gibbs reactions were part of her enjoyment she decided against it.

"I think Tim is going to win," Ziva spoke up.

They were waiting for the CIA to set up their music and light sequences now so everyone was back to talking. Everyone it seemed apart from Tony and Gibbs.

She sighed. This was getting ridiculous.

"She did very well, did she not?"

Silence.

"And now, for the final performance, will the CIA retain the title for another year? I give you the CIA!"

Ziva's eyes glazed over as two Vikings walked into the stage.

NCIS was definitely winning this year.

* * *

Tim was gobsmacked.

They had won.

For the first time, NCIS has actually won.

"We did it, boss," someone shouted beside her as they left the building, the proud holder of the Golden Mouse.

Yes, they had.

* * *

"Thank you so much for coming to the rescue tonight," Tim thanked Langer before she climbed out of the cab.

She still couldn't believe that they had actually won. Her feet were aching and her back was killing her from the corset - how did Abby wear these on a regular basis? - but it was worth it. On Monday the Golden Mouse would be proudly on display in the basement. She smiled at the man who had stepped into the void.

"Hey it was fun," he was smiling back at her, "Thank _you_ for inviting me,"

* * *

Langer waved to Tim as she entered her building and settled back in the seat.

That had been fun. _She_ had been fun.

NCIS suddenly seemed a lot more appealing than it did a few years ago.

 **TADA!**

 **I love Labyrinth. Best sound track ever! And as one of my favourite artists has done a cover CD recently I have had the songs going around in my head for weeks. And then it was the Glasgow ComicCon (which I didn't go to :() at the end of September so this series of one-shot just kind of happened.**

 **Silly but fun to write.**

 **I really hope you enjoyed them.**

 **Please leave a comment in the little box ;)**

 **Take care**

 **:)**

 **PS – The artist is Karliene, you can look for her on YouTube if you like. She does covers of songs (Labyrinth (obviously ;)), Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones etc) but she also does some wonderful original stuff.**


	12. Poached

Tim was typing as fast as she could while trying to make as few mistakes as possible. 12:30 was growing nearer with every sentence she put a full stop to and she didn't want to keep her lunch companion waiting if she could help.

She had blocked out everything going on around her until Tony said something that had her looking to the elevator.

Tobias Fornell came striding onto the floor and headed straight for their section.

She sighed to herself. It looked like she wouldn't be getting this report finished after all. Gibbs who was sitting at his desk doing the same paperwork they had all been working through looked to his friend and she cringed at the frown he was wearing. Obviously he hadn't read the memo that had been sent to him through the director…she could have spoken to him she supposed…but it was hardly her fault he was a Luddite where his email was concerned and she was not putting herself in a position to receive the 'Gibbs glare'. It looked like she would be on the receiving end of it anyway before she could make her escape.

"Anything I can help you with, Tobias?" he asked.

She cringed again.

"Yeah, like sign a confession for a murder we didn't commit," Tony shot out, he still hadn't quite got over that.

Tony had never made a secret of his feeling towards the FBI – something before her time about being thrown out of a car in body bag, and of course the private plane thing – having been framed just gave him the chance to air his opinions a bit more freely. She was waiting for the day when Gibbs decided his free pass had lasted long enough.

"DiNozzo, a pleasure as always," Fornell smiled like a cat who got the cream and Tim knew that Tony probably wanted to punch it clean of the other man's face.

"Just came to collect my date, Gibbs,"

Tim blushed. Of course he would have to say that to get a rise out of the team.

"Date?"

Fornell nodded his head – the gleam in his eyes saying he knew fine that Gibbs had no idea what he was talking about.

He turned his head to her and smiled.

"How does that new place sound? I have the company credit card," he smiled conspiratorially at her.

"Sounds nice,"

Tim was aware of all eyes being on her and she felt her cheeks heat up even more. Anymore and she would catch light.

As calmly as she could she saved her work, shut down her computer and set her desk in order for tomorrow. After all, the director had given her the rest of the day of. And again, it wasn't he fault if Gibbs didn't look at his inbox.

She gulped.

 _You just keep telling yourself that, Tim, you might actually start to believe it._

So maybe she did feel a little bad for not telling Gibbs face to face. But he still scared her a little – ok, a lot – and…well...

She stood and straightened the wrinkles out of her dress trousers. She had dressed a little nicer than usual for her meeting today. She knew that Fornell had seen her in the middle of a case when her hair hadn't been washed in days and breakfast had missed her mouth and hit her top but that was then and this was a professional if useless meeting.

She forced herself to look at Gibbs who was looking at her with a blank expression. Tim thought she would prefer the glare over the blank face any day.

"I'll see you tomorrow, boss," she nearly whispered before making a beeline for the elevator, Fornell close behind her.

* * *

Gibbs watched the elevator door slide shut before standing and making straight for the director's office. He was aware of Ziva and Tony following close on his heals but he ignored him. He had to get to the bottom of this.

He strode passed Pam's desk, paying no attention to her calls for him to stop and stormed into the office.

Jen looked up at him, slipping her glasses from her face and appearing far too calm for his liking. Nothing seemed to get her flustered anymore. Always so collected. Which was why she was director and he was exactly where she had left him. But he'd be damned if she coolly got Timothy McGee involved in something she couldn't handle.

Jen looked behind him, taking in Ziva and Tony.

"How can I help you all?"

"Wait outside," he told his two agents, his tone brooking no argument.

The door shut at his back as Jen walked from behind her desk and leaned back against it.

"Yes, Jethro?"

"McGee?" he demanded.

"What about her?" Jen appeared confused by his question.

"Fornell?" he clarified.

"Yes, Agent Fornell of the FBI…" she trailed of and they stood in silence for a moment or two.

"Jethro I honestly have no idea what you are talking about. Now either speak in sentences longer than one word or leave,"

"Why did Fornell just leave with one of my agents?" there, more than one word and it had better get him an answer.

"You were notified, Jethro," she walked back around her desk and sat down, clicking and typing.

"Here we go," she announced, pointing at the screen, "This is the email-" she paused and laughed, "Ah yes, sorry, I forgot about your aversion to all things technical," she cleared her throat and began to read.

"This email is to notify you that on…well, today…Agent Timothy McGee is excused from her duties for the afternoon from 12:30 –"

"Why?" he ground out.

"Jethro," she sighed, "You may not have a clue just what that young woman is capable of with a computer but I assure you others are not so blind. She is in high demand and the FBI is only one of the organisations that has approached me,"

"Fornell is trying to poach, McGee?" he asked incredulously.

He knew that Tim was good at what she did…but was she that good?

It was bad enough that other agencies tried to steal Abby on a fairly regular basis. Was he going to have to start worrying about them making off with McGee now?

"Yes. She had been offered job opportunities in the past – I believe during her time at Norfolk – and now that she has proven herself to be a capable agent in the field the competition will be fierce," she smiled wickedly at him, "I would try harder to hold onto her if I were you, Agent Gibbs," her gaze hardened, "She is an asset to this agency and I will not be pleased should her resignation pass across my desk. Am I understood?"

Gibbs thought for a moment. Surprised slightly by this reaction. Reading between the lines she was telling him that she would have his head if Tim left.

"Yes, director," he walked to the door not saying anything else and opened it to find Ziva and Tony standing far too innocently a foot or so away from it.

He stalked passed them and heard them scuttle after him.

The FBI were not getting Timothy McGee!

 **Silly Gibbs. He doesn't realise that Tim is just where she wants to be. :)**

 **Feedback feeds the plot-goblins ;)**

 **Take care**

 **:)**


	13. Training 1 of 3

Tim gripped the steering wheel tightly, the faux leather becoming slippery from her sweating palms.

She glanced into the rear mirror. Since she had left her apartment she hadn't been able to stop checking on the large dog in her trunk every thirty seconds or so. She did not like having the animal behind her. It was true that she had bought a fitted 'gate' to fill the gap between the head of the backseats and the roof but she still felt insecure.

The dog – Jethro – was staring at her. Was it her imagination or had he started meeting her eyes in the mirror? Could dogs even do that?

He was a cute dog, sitting up and panting the way he was. Every time she turned a corner or came to a junction it was as though his legs stopped working. She had heard him topple over and seen him vanish from her mirror for a moment more than once.

If it wasn't for the itching scar along her shoulder and neck she would happily have kept him but there just happened to be the matter of the attack on their first meeting standing between them.

She turned into the base and rolled down her window to show her ID.

Hopefully her plan would work.

* * *

The man standing in front of her was not what she had expected. Not at all.

He had a mischievous glint about his eyes that made him look like he was more likely to tell a joke that pull a gun.

He smiled at her.

Tim was sure he smiled a lot. He had the lines around his mouth and eyes that showed her this.

He held out his hand to her and she took it out of habit. His skin was rough but warm. Pleasantly so.

"Agent McGee?" he queried.

He had a nice voice. Calm and deep. Perfect for putting a dog at ease and having it listen to instructions she would think. And people.

"Yes," she added a bit more energy to shaking his hand and then he released it, "Commander Grady, isn't it?"

"Oh, it's just Owen, this is off the books after all,"

Did he just wink at her?

Tim ignored it.

"Well, I'm Tim then," she smiled, unable to keep it from her face.

This man's mood was infectious.

She thought back over all of the various Navy personnel she had met through her job. There really was a difference to people's personalities when you weren't investigating a murder/stolen goods/missing intel…delete were applicable.

"So," the man – Owen – looked down at Jethro, where he was pressed against her side. The dog had been obstinately ignoring her attempt to shift him away from her, "This must be Jethro,"

She was tense, her knuckles turning white where they gripped the leash, her legs trembling a little where the dog touched her.

He was a lovely animal. She knew this. And he adored being close to her, but she couldn't help but hate Abby for the position she had placed her in. If the dog had been sent away and never come up again Tim probably wouldn't have given it much thought but as soon as Abby had gotten involved…

"Yeah, that's right," she forced herself to be calm.

Owen allowed the German Shepherd to smell his hand.

"A drug dog?"

She nodded her head, her nerves spiking at the sight of the man's tanned hand so close to Jethro's mouth where lots of teeth lived.

The dog shifted and whined and Owen looked at her, his eyes studying her.

"How did you come to own him?"

The question caught her by surprise and against her will her hand went up to her still bandaged neck.

"Umm…case related,"

Owen frowned at her, his eyes going to her hand and she lowered it. It was too late though. His attention was no firmly fixed on the white bandage.

"I think we need to have a discussion,"

* * *

"But I don't want him to be destroyed,"

The whole story had come pouring out her without her permission. This Owen Grady, she decided, was a dangerous man. He had gotten the story out her so easily. Or maybe she had just been desperate for someone to listen to her from an unbiased perspective.

"I know it wasn't his fault," she took a sip of her coffee, her hands were shaking a little. Just how many cups had she had? She couldn't remember and she couldn't see a clock to figure out how long she had been talking for. She had a feeling it had been quite a while but Owen showed no signs of being bored with her. He sat opposite her at the table, his own coffee cup steaming in front of him and just listened except when he prompted her with the occasional question.

"I know it was the drugs in his system," she shivered at the memory of how ill she had been from the small amount that had got into her bloodstream through the bite and didn't wonder why Jethro had been so vicious. She probably would have bitten people too if she thought she could get away with it.

"But he is a big dog and…I've never had a pet before you see and well…" Tim trailed off, running out of steam and looked at Owen.

The man was looking at her with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"So, you were attacked by this dog on the job?" he finally spoke, it came as a shock to hear a full sentence after so long a tome of just a few words at a time from his.

She nodded her head miserably.

"And your Forensic Scientist friend blamed you for shooting him in self-defence?"

Again she nodded her head.

"And bullied you into taking him in when she couldn't?"

"Well-" she began only for him to raise a hand to stop her.

"And your Forensic Scientist 'friend'," he repeated slowly, placing emphasis where she had missed it before, "bullied you into taking him in when she couldn't?"

Tim sighed and nodded her head.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I think you need another friend,"

Tim nearly gave herself whiplash when she looked up from where she had been studying her mug.

This stranger she had met no more than two hours ago looked angry…furious and it was all on her behalf. No one ever got mad for her. They got mad at her sure but this was a first. And if she was following him he was angry at Abby. That was another thing. No one EVER got mad at Abby. It was like Gibbs' rule zero.

"Tim, are you sure you want to keep this dog?" Owen leaned in closer to her, his eyes serious.

She thought it through for a moment, looking to the floor although she knew the dog wasn't there. Owen had had someone take him for a run.

Did she honestly want the dog?

Abby had guilt tripped her into it. Making her dread coming home for the last week – although the last day or so had been getting better.

She thought of the whine that would come from Jethro for the first hour or so when she would close her bedroom door against him at night. The way he would bound around like an oversized puppy the few times she had been home in time to take him for a decent walk. Despite not being keen on the idea she hadn't been able to resist buying him treats from the store either.

Her hand went to the bandages.

Did she want this dog?

"Yes," she whispered, she did.

Owen smiled broadly at her and hit the table with a decided thump.

"Alright then, we'll take things slowly,"

 **I HATE HATE HATED! Abby in the Dog Tags episode.**

 **So…anyone recognise a certain someone's name. Yip, I have just thrown another fandom into the mix. ;)**

 **Please let me know what you think.**

 **Have a smashing day everyone.**

 **:)**


	14. Training 2 of 3

Tim met with the trainer as often as she could when their schedules didn't conflict or a murder got in the way. The time he spent with her was working wonders with building her confidence with handling Jethro and was also allowing the dog to socialise with other canines when she went to the base.

Owen had told her they wold take things slowly and he had kept his word.

To some she was sure the pace would seem almost glacial, but for her it was just right as he showed her how to stay in control of the strong animal and keep his reflexes and training sharp.

Slowly but surely under the man's tutorage she stopped being nervous and touching her neck in remembrance of the bloody gashes. She stopped tensing whenever his muzzle came too close to her. Until finally, one night, she just didn't close her bedroom door. She had woke up the next morning with her hip covered in doggy drool and large brown eyes looking at her dotingly. It was in that moment that she knew she had done it.

Tim had conquered her fear.

* * *

"I knew you could do it,"

Tim raised her wine glass to clink it against the beer bottle Owen was holding towards her.

Owen smiled broadly at her as he raised his glass to his lips and took a gulp. Tim sipped at her wine.

"I really am grateful, Owen," she began only for him to wave her off.

"Don't be silly. It was nothing," he told her putting his now half empty glass down on the table and twisting to reach his jacket picket.

She watched him with an amused frown and shook her head as he went through each of his pockets looking for who knew what.

The crease of concentration on his forehead smoothed when he patted down one pocket at the crinkling sound of paper was his reward. He pulled an envelope from the pocket and placed it on the table.

Was he behind with his mail? Dinner wasn't exactly the best place to read it she would admit, but then, each to their own.

Much to her surprise he slid it across the table to her, by passing the damp patch made by his beer glass.

She looked up at him.

"What's this?" she asked, leaning forward slightly and placing her wine glass down.

It was a very official looking piece of stationary she could say that for nothing. But he had turned it so she could not see the front where an insignia would be, only the plain back.

"Open it," he told her, his eyes smiling at her as much as his lips were.

"Me?"

"Yes. You,"

She lifted the envelope carefully and slid her finger under the flap. It tore easily. Still keeping the envelope facing front down, she gave him a bemused smile as she pulled the piece of paper from the envelope and unfolded it.

Owen was looking terribly please with himself. If he was a cat she would be looking around him for the canary feathers.

She began to read under her breath.

"Miss Timothy McGee,

This is to certify that…"

Her moth became dry and she stopped voicing the words.

She looked up at him.

"You put me through for the exam," she gasped.

He nodded his head and chuckled.

"You, Agent Timothy McGee-" he saluted her with his glass, "Are now a qualified dog handler,"

"I'm a what?" the idea was so foreign to her.

"Yip, I put you and Jethro through your paces three weeks ago and you passed with flying colours," he banged the table to emphasise how dramatic the 'flying colours' in question had been.

She had sat – well, stood – an exam without even knowing it. That was a weird sensation altogether.

"But I'm _not_ a dog handler,"

"Of course you are," he leaned in towards her, making her instinctually move in closer too, "You have Jethro, correct?"

She nodded her head.

"You are his owner, correct?"

Again she nodded her head.

"You walk him, feed him and successfully issue him commands to seek out, yes?"

Again she nodded her head in agreement.

"Then you. Are. A. Dog. Handler,"

She looked down at the piece of paper.

She was a dog handler.

"I'm a dog handler?"

"Yes you are,"

"Well…a Jethro handler," she smiled.

He chuckled and nodded his head.

"You'll have to have a word with your boss. There might be an extra pay cheque for you,"

"Huh?" she looked up at him, she had been too busy studying the letter again.

It had not been her intention to gain anything other than confidence out of her bartered lessons with the commander. Bartered for her computer skills and something she had already 'paid' of in her fashion. But now that she did have something tangible in her hand to tell her that all of her effort had paid off in such a way she couldn't stop looking at it.

Sure she supposed anyone could be a dog handler but she had a piece of paper saying she was.

The glow she felt whenever she achieved anything burned warmly within her chest.

"Your boss," Owen repeated, "You and Jethro might become quite an asset. Save the dogs having to be called into a scene if needed. Jethro could be on site all the time,"

She smiled at the thought of the German Shepherd curled up beneath her desk – or more likely beside it as he did have a habit of sprawling whenever he could (one night he would have her on the floor and her bed would be designated his).

Tim had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate any visits from Abby. Since he had come into her care he had shown a strong dislike for…hyper activity. She could only imagine just how much sedatives had been pumping through his system during the case for him to tolerate being in the happy goth's lab for so long.

She liked the idea of having him at the Navy Yard with her. As it was she felt guilty leaving him cooped up in the apartment all day until the walker came to fetch him. But if she had a word with Gibbs…actually, Vance would probably be better, and he agreed with Jethro being in the building it would solve everything.

Tim smiled at Owen.

"Yeah, I'll do that,"

 **Tada. I meant for this part to cover a bit more than it did but hey ho, n** **ever mind.**

 **So I thought that as Owen was hired out of the Navy by Ingen (Big hugs for those of you who guessed Jurassic World) he would probably had been involved with animal behaviour/training within the Navy. So TADA. He and Tim get to meet. Thought I'd just explain by thought process there ;)**

 **And as Jethro is a working dog (in every sense of the word) I figured that Tim would have to show she had a level of ability and competency before just being allowed to keep him on a permanent basis. So that is where the certificate/qualification comes in. :)**

 **Please let me know what you think**

 **Take care.**

 **One more Training to come :)**

 **:)**


	15. Training 3 of 3

Dinner had been nice with the conversation flowing easily between them and now they were walking in the warmth of the early evening, an ice cream cone in hand.

"Did you always want to work with dogs," Tim asked as they walked through the park.

It was bustling this evening, parents watching children running around and squealing in the play park and dog owners throwing balls and sticks for their panting canines to retrieve.

Tim regretted not bringing Jethro along, but the ice-cream and walk had been a last minute decisions made when they saw how nice the weather was. Besides it wouldn't have been fair to have him sitting in the car the whole time she was eating.

"Nah," Owen answered around his ice-cream before taking it from his mouth, "I worked at a zoo once," that was unexpected, "I loved the predators. The big cats…wolves…there is something beautiful about them, you know?"

He was like a little boy as he walked beside her, his enthusiasm about his past job just oozing out of him.

"I worked with dolphins for a while too, you know, studying their behaviour intelligence, that kind of thing. I'm starting to get itchy feet now though, don't know what to move onto next,"

"A zoo keeper, maybe?" she suggested, "Safari? Circus?" she had seen the amazing way he handled the dogs that belonged to the other trainers and she couldn't imagine making the progress she had made with Jethro if he had not been the one to teach her.

He shrugged his shoulder and shot her a smile.

"You never know,"

She couldn't imaging him doing anything else but working with animals, although from what he had told her during their time together he knew his way around an engine. Maybe engineering was in his future?

"What about you?"

Tim looked up.

They had lapsed back into silence for a few minutes until they had negotiated a busy section of the park. Now safe out the other end again Owen carried on their conversation.

"Was being a Navy cop something you always wanted to be?"

"My dad's Navy," was her reply.

"Oh,"

"An admiral,"

"Oh,"

"Yeah,"

"So what, was this kind of a rebellion thing. I wouldn't think he would be too happy with your choice,"

Tim kicked a stone from the path and watched it skitter along the pavement and into the bushes lining the path.

Yeah, her dad had not been happy with her decision so much so that they had been speaking though her mom for the past few years.

He might have had a little problem with her being born a girl but he had a massive issue with her not joining the Navy. But she had no wish to be throwing up her stomach lining every day of her working life. Not that her father cared.

"I've always loved computers, loved to tinker. I went to John Hopkins and MIT and had quite a few offers from various companies but I didn't want to be stuck behind a desk all day. I wanted to make a difference…"

"So what, you just reached into a hat and pulled out a government agency,"

She laughed at that. It would be so much more amusing if she had done that.

"Nothing so mystical I'm afraid. We lived on a base for a while and there was some thefts. This was back when NCIS was NIS. And I always remembered them. A part of we had wanted to be them when I grew up but it was something that I just…forgot about I suppose,"

"Until you remembered?" he chuckled.

"Yeah,"

* * *

Tim ignored Tony as he spat paper balls at her. He would get bored eventually and until he did there was no point in snapping at him because no matter how annoyed she would get it wouldn't stop him, like a little boy it would only encourage him.

Another spit soaked ball struck her cheek and she jerked. They had only been hitting her hair so far.

The sound of the elevator doors opening was a blessing in disguise as Tony stopped his onslaught for a moment.

"Hey. Who's Indiana Jones?"

"Last time I checked it was Harrison Ford," she mumbled, focusing on her typing and assuming he was about to start spouting from his endless supply of movie trivia.

She was drafting her third attempt at a letter to the Director, regarding having Jethro join the team. She had been documenting every time sniffer dogs had to be called to a scene over the last few months so she had the first hand and up-to-date information to provide in her petition. Hopefully it would-

"Not _the_ Indiana Jones. This wannabe heading our way? Has Halloween come early this year?"

"Tony," Tim sighed in annoyance, how on earth did the man get any work done, "What on earth are you talking about?"

For once there was no smart remark from Tony as she became aware of someone standing in front of her desk.

Whoever it was it wouldn't take them long to realise that they were in front of the wrong desk. People did not gravitate towards Gibbs' team to talk to her. They came to see Gibbs or occasionally Tony or Ziva...or just got lost and needed directions.

"Hey Tim,"

Tim's head shot up from her screen her mouth open.

"Owen!" she stood, her chair banging against the back of the partition board with a thud.

"Hi," he smiled at her, the corner of his mouth turning up and his eyes shining.

"Hi,"

"Do you think they're just going to standing there saying 'Hi' all day?" she glanced toward Tony to see he had moved to Ziva's desk. They were both staring. Glancing behind Owen she saw that Gibbs too was staring at her.

"Umm, boss, can I have a minute," she asked, walking from behind her own desk, to show that she was not going to take her 'minute' in the middle of the bullpen.

It took a moment but Gibbs eventually nodded his head and jerked it towards the 'you aren't quite a criminal yet' interview room.

"Thanks,"

* * *

Tony was right. Owen definitely had an Indiana Jones thing going. All he was missing was the hat and the whip as he stood in front of her in faded jeans, scuffed boots, navy shirt and warn leather vest.

She gulped.

He looked good.

Really good.

Better than he had ever looked in his -

"I'm leaving,"

Wow. Ok.

"Leaving?" she tried to ignore the cold feeling that came to her stomach at his words.

"Yeah, I'm on my way to the airport now,"

"That fast?"

"Yeah it was all pretty fast," he trailed off, just looking at her.

"Where are you going?"

"It's all hush-hush right now. Maybe I can tell you in a couple of months. You know. If you like?"

"That would be nice. You…um…you have my phone number,"

He nodded his head.

The silence stretched between them for a while.

"Jethro will-" before Tim could even finish her thought Owen had lunged forward, his mouth landing expertly across hers.

She froze for a moment, her mind trying to compute just what was happening.

He was kissing her.

One of his hands was cupping the nape of her neck and the other was on her back.

She should pull away.

But she didn't want to.

Her arms wrapped around his neck.

* * *

Tim looked up at Owen as he pulled away from her, and smiled.

That's had been one heck of a kiss.

He was smiling back at her, his hand now resting on her hip, and his other hand in her hair.

"Um," she licked her lips, trying to get her thoughts together, "Don't you have a flight to catch,"

"Yeah," he whispered, leaning back in to peck her lips.

His fingers felt lovely in her hair, until he froze for a moment and drew back from her with a small frown.

Owen's was now working a few strands of her hair between his fingers a frown of concentration on his face until he drew his hand away.

"What is this,"

In the palm of his hand was a small round pellet of rolled up paper.

Tim giggled and leaned against him.

* * *

"Everything alright, McGee?" Tim looked across to Gibbs who was looking at her with an expression she normally didn't see outside of a crime scene.

That was slightly unnerving.

He was studying her.

"Yes, Boss, everything is fine," she smiled nervously at him.

"Did all go well with your visitor, McGee?"

Tim glanced over at Ziva to find the other woman smiling warmly at her. Tim returned the smile and nodded her head.

"Yeah, It went fine. He was just letting me know he is moving,"

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that McGee," Ziva did look sorry about this.

"Don't worry about it Ziva. I'll hopefully get to visit him once he has settled into his new job,"

A dramatic groan from Tony had her looking to the man's desk as he fled towards the elevators.

"What the matter with him?" she asked, concerned by his sudden exit.

"Pay him no mind, McGee," Ziva waved her hand to indicate she was to put it from her mind, "Something has not agreed with him, that is all,"

"Oh...alright,"

Sparing one last look towards the now closing elevator doors she returned her gaze to her computer screen.

Now, where had she left of?

Smiling like a loon she began to type again.

 **Tada.**

 **So this wasn't a sudden thing. The training of Jethro and all that would have taken a while and now Owen is leaving he just couldn't hold himself back. Aww! ;)I figured that Owen would have been training the raptors for quite a few years so it would make sense that he would be called away years before the park opened again.**

 **Please don't forget to leave a plot-goblin feeding comment :)**

 **Take care everyone and I'll see you with the next chapter. It will be another 2 parter and Brent is back. Briefly :)**


	16. Mole Hunt 1 of 2

"Good afternoon, my lady of the basement," a pleasant tickle went down Tim's spine as lips accidentally brushed her ear as the man behind her spoke.

 _Keep an eye on him if you can, Agent McGee._

She glanced to the side to see the others smiling like love struck idiots at her and the man at her back.

They didn't get much real life entertainment down here in the bowels of NCIS.

She felt like a freaking vampire since Director Vance had reshuffled the team and shuffled her right down the stairs. Sometimes she didn't even go upstairs for lunch and wouldn't see a window (which had taken some getting used to – even her little office in Norfolk had had a window) until it was time for her to go home and it was dark outside. Much more of this and she would be getting treated for a vitamin D deficiency.

"Would you care to join me for lunch?" she couldn't make out the features of the man behind her in the computer screen, only the vague shape.

"I can't today, I'm busy,"

 _Keep your distance though, Agent McGee._

"Go on Boss," someone piped up from somewhere along the line of blinking screens, "You've been having lunch at your desk all week,"

"Yeah, come on boss," she could hear the smile in the voice at her ear as he mimicked her colleagues.

One hand was placed gently on her shoulder to steady her as she felt another one grip the back of her chair.

She was carefully rolled backwords and spun around.

She looked up – unimpressed – into the smiling face of Agent Langer.

"Come on. Come and have lunch with me," he wheedled.

"Fine," she sighed, "But it has to be a quick one, I'm busy,"

She turned back to her desk and secured her computer, it could continue running some scans while she was gone without being supervised for a while.

A soft touch on her back led her to the elevator and up towards life. As the elevator doors slide shut she shook her head at some of the others giving her small waves, thumbs-up and encouraging smiles.

"It's as cold as a crypt down there," Langer pointed out.

"Yeah, it's to keep the equipment from overheating,"

"Can't do you any good," she could feel him looking at her and she couldn't stop herself from looking away from the smooth surface of the door to meet his eyes.

He was actually concerned about her.

Why did he have to be so nice?

She knew he was nice from her past dealings with him but why did he have to still be so nice. Why couldn't it have been an uncharacteristic one of.

 _Remember, Agent McGee, everything could be an act._

"Can it?" he prompted, and she realised she had been standing silently like an idiot.

"Um, I wear warm clothes, I'll probably end up a sweaty mess while having lunch,"

'A sweaty mess'? Really McGee.

It was true though. She had taken to wearing heat pads beneath her clothing and today had called for the thermal undershirt too – she had a feeling she was actually coming down with something.

"Sure you want to still have lunch with me?" she asked quickly, in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment.

Langer only smiled at her and nodded his head as the elevator stopped and he held out an arm for her to exit first.

 _Remember Agent McGee. This is a mole hunt._

* * *

 _Try and get information out of him._

Tim sipped at her coffee.

Langer had gone from dragging her out of the basement for lunch to insisting she had a coffee break with him too, insisting she needed more sunlight before she started attacking people's necks. She had giggled and asked him jokingly what his blood type was.

It had been nice to joke with him.

It had been dangerous under the circumstances.

"So, why did you transfer?" she asked him to break the silence, "FBI not treating you well?"

He looked at her.

"Needed a change," he spoke after a few minutes.

"A change. Didn't you go there for a change?" she asked, slightly confused.

"Yeah. But something was different here that made it more appealing," he explained cryptically, smiling at her.

Something about his eyes and that smile had her beginning to feel warm and she willed her blush to stay at the base of her neck where it felt like it was beginning to creep up from.

"Really?" she aimed for nonchalance...she failed.

He leaned in close to her.

"Really,"

* * *

 _You made an impression Agent McGee. If he wants to make friends let him._

Tim readjusted the bag on her shoulder, it wasn't as heavy as it used to be when she had to be ready for anything in the field but her misery would have made a feather like a ton weight at the moment.

She wanted this to be over.

She had been pulling early and late shifts for weeks now, trying to get the information that Director Vance was after. She hadn't written in months. She missed Ziva – although they did exchange emails weekly (or more often if they could). She missed Tony the most though. Which was funny. When she first met him she never would have thought that out of all the team she would miss him at all, never mind the most.

And Gibbs. She even missed Gibbs being there to yell for "Something" and pushing her to get answers out of thin air. Maybe she would have cracked the encryptions by now if Gibbs was there to breath down her neck.

"Tim!"

She couldn't stop it. A smile came to her face at the sound of the voice.

"Brent,"

The other agent was jogging after her across the parking lot.

"You're in late," she observed and then realising that she was talking to someone who was now on Gibbs' team she realised how stupid a comment that was. Gibbs didn't have much of a gauge for 'late' when there was a case to solve.

"Yeah, just getting off now. What about you. Someone chain you to your desk in the basement,"

"No. Just had some work to catch up on,"

She continued towards her car and he fell in step beside her.

"Would you like to grab something to eat?" he sounded far too energetic to have just put in goodness knows how many hours with Gibbs.

"I'm sorry Brent, I'm tired," she sighed.

"Come on Tim. You know if you don't eat with me you'll just fall into bed and not eat at all," he elbowed her gently.

He did have a point.

 _Spend time with him if you can._

"Alright,"

"Great. My cars over there," he pointed to the other side of the lot, "What's your pleasure? Chinese? Italian? Indian?"

"Chinese would be nice,"

"I know just the place. You can follow behind me," he went sprinting off towards his car.

 _But remember. Don't let yourself get emotionally attached. He could be a traitor._

* * *

 **WARNING-don't get attached guys, the end result is going to be the same as the show. And you know how that went down. :(**

 **I had a super duper productive day today even if I do say so myself. I am sorry that I haven't been able to reply to any comments left for the last few chapters. I have had a to-do list the length of my arm. :(**

 **Thank you so much for all the amazing feedback. You guys are great!**

 **Take care everyone.**

 **:)**


	17. Mole Hunt 2 of 2

Tim felt her heart sink. Her chest hurt. Her heart hurt.

She sank into her chair as Gibbs loomed over her, trying to find something to say.

But what was she to say?

He had just told her. He had just…

Langer was –

Lee had –

She couldn't breathe.

It couldn't have been him. She was sure of it. She had been sure of it.

She closed her eyes to shut out Gibbs.

Langer?

* * *

She watched along with the others as Lee walked down the step like it was any other night. Like there was nothing wrong.

Lee smiled at them. Wished them goodnight. Walked to the elevator.

Tim's stomach rolled.

She stayed where she was until the number for the floor below lit up above the elevator.

"I think I'm going to be sick,"

She staggered towards the restroom, deaf to the concerned questions of her teammates. Her vision blurring at the edges. Hot tears beginning to fall down her cheeks as she pushed open the door and stumbled to a stall. The door bounced against the wall of the neighbouring stall. But she didn't care.

She fell in front of the toilet bowl and heaved.

* * *

Lee was dead. Tim had wanted her dead. She had never wanted someone dead so much in her life. Why should that woman be allowed to breathe still when Brent was dead and buried. Branded a traitor.

There was a knock on her car window and she looked up in fright.

It was Tony.

He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, sliding into the seat.

"Hey, are you OK?"

Was she OK? She had never wanted to shoot someone in cold blood before. Never felt her trigger finger itch every time she was in presence of another person. Never felt the weight of her hidden knife so much…

She shook her head.

"Want to talk about it?" Tony's hand landed gently on her shoulder.

This Tony was a Tony not many people got to see. The caring, non-joker side. The fact that she had made him become serious made her want to cry.

Did she want to talk about it?

Director Vance had tried to talk to her after Brent had died. She had met with him often during her time in cybercrimes and whenever the subject of the ex-FBI man came up she had told him that she did not think it was him.

When it had turned out it was…well he had been kind and understanding about it. Seeing that it was affecting her more than it should have. After all, she wasn't an undercover agent. She had never been in the position before. She didn't know how to separate her emotions.

And then, when it had come to light that Lee was responsible he had called her into his office again. And much to her surprise he had apologised to her. Apologised for thinking that she had allowed her emotions to cloud her judgment. She supposed she did. But then what was Gibbs doing every time he attributed something to his infallible 'gut'? Wasn't that emotion?

She was grateful to the Director for trying. It was more than Gibbs had done. She refused to go to his home and walk down his basement steps to vent. What would she do? Scream and cry that it wasn't fair. That he had allowed – even for a second – his protective instincts to flare where Lee was concerned. That even for a moment his judgment had been clouded.

Had it?

It seemed like it to her. But then she wasn't in his head.

And now, she sat in her car with Tony at her side asking if she wanted to talk about it.

She shook her head slowly but words came out of her mouth unwillingly.

"He joked that I was the reason he had transferred from the FBI," she whispered, "Said things had changed here, that something…something had made it more appealing," her voice was becoming thick, tears were burning behind her eyes, making her nose tickle.

"Director Vance had me keep an eye on him when he started coming to take me for lunch. Always reminded me that he could be a traitor. That it could all be an act,"

The first tear slid from beneath her eye lid and just like that the dam that had been keeping her emotions in check cracked and then collapsed completely.

She began to sob and Tony's arms came around her.

It was awkward being comforted in the front of her car but she was grateful for it. She hadn't realised just how much she needed it.

He made nonsensical hushing noises into her hair, rocking her slightly from side to side as much as the space allowed.

"I really liked him," she cried into his chest, somehow managing to turn in her seat "But a part of me always thought he could be pretending…and he wasn't" she wailed.

"Shhh," she felt a kiss being pressed into her hair and it made her sob even harder.

"I wanted her dead, Tony," she breathed, trying to regain her composure but failing as another flood of tears came streaming down her face, "I wanted her dead so much for what she did. For what she made people think about him,"

"Shhh…I know,"

"And I shouldn't have," she sighed heavily into Tony's tear damped shirt, "She had her reasons,"

"Shhh," he was rubbing her back now like she was a child.

"But I don't care what her reasons were. I wanted her dead…"

"Shh Tim. It's alright. She did something that was unforgivable. You are allowed to hate her,"

Tim concentrated on her breathing, forcing herself to not stutter with her inward breaths. Calming herself with each full breath she achieved. Her tears still fell scorching and silent down her flushed cheeks.

Someone she trusted – Tony – had just given her permission to hate the woman who was now dead.

Why didn't it make her feel any better?

After all, now they were both dead. And if this job had taught her anything it was that another dead body couldn't bring back someone no matter how hard you wished it.

He was gone.

 **Sad :(**

 **I was getting a bit misty eyed while I was typing this bit, I admit.**

 **Take care everyone.**

 **I'll see you later with a happier one-shot. Promise :)**

 **:)**


	18. Undercover

To anyone watching they were a happily married couple. New to their marriage and still basking in the glow of the honeymoon period.

To those watching from a strategically positioned battered van it was a different story.

* * *

"Gibbs," Ziva's eyeballs felt as though they were going to hop out of her head any moment and run away for her mistreatment of them, she needed sleep, "could the intel have been mistaken? We have been here for almost a month now,"

It was true. Somewhere on this base, in one of these innocent looking houses, someone was selling prescription medication stolen from the United States Government. Or so an anonymous tipper had alleged.

Due attention had been paid to the report and while it had been found that boxes and orders had gone missing over a period of several months it had either been done so accidentally that no one held any criminal responsibility or the thief was very good at what they did and were hiding there steps well.

A convenient post had been found that needed filling and so civilian workers Mr and Mrs Richards were born. While Ziva was bored out of her face…brain? Mind? Whatever. She was ready to start housebreaking to find the guilty party if it got her something to do other than observe.

As it was unclear at what stage of the delivery the medication was going missing – order forms would list one number while stock takes another – Tim had been the obvious choice for the mission as she would be able to determine if computer records had been tampered with and when. She was the fastest when it came to such work and Ziva knew this.

Tony had 'found' a job with the assistance of the base commander as a night porter at the hospital while Tim was assisting with retrieving patients files after a recent systems malfunction.

Ziva watched their progress along the street and up the drive of their house.

In sync both she and Gibbs climbed from the van.

Wearing their undercover standard issue phone company boiler suits, they really did fit the part.

While sitting in a van may work for short stints of such work, sitting around in one for almost a month for no good reason just got you visits from the local head of the neighbourhood watch wanting to know why you were loitering and to move on.

To avoid this they did have a pass but still there was no reason to stretch things.

She leaned over Gibbs as he studied the clipboard of houses on the base. They had already crossed out nearly all of the homes in their mock inspection of phone lines and while some of the wives and husbands of the Navy personnel had shown the usual annoyance at having their homes invaded so unceremoniously, nothing had alerted either herself or Gibbs to a guilty person – or a user of the missing medication.

Soon they would be out of options and it would be up to Tim and Tony to track down their thief.

A slight crackle filled her ear as one of the other earwigs came on line.

"Boss?" Tony's voice filled her head.

"Anything?" Gibbs wasted no time.

"Nothing on my end. Just a lot of overworked and underpaid porters. Same old same old,"

"What about McGee?"

"She went straight to the shower. Hold on,"

Ziva froze at this. He wasn't going to barge in on Tim was he? While Ziva did not have the same streak of modesty her teammate possessed she did respect it.

"Tony!" a squeal reached them through the ear pieces.

Tony it seemed did not have the same compulsions.

"I've seen plenty of naked women, McGee,"

Ziva could just imagine that smug smirk on his face.

"Well none of them were me! Get out!"

"Boss is wanting an update," came Tony's unrepentant response.

Ziva rolled her eyes. No boundaries at all.

"Apart from dealing with an 'accidental' groper, there was nothing new. Now move!"

Ziva very rarely saw Tim angry, the other woman was a very mild-mannered individual but now…Ziva wondered if Tony would realise he had gone a bit too far with his latest stunt.

"Tim!" Tony gasped and Ziva tensed. Had something happened? "And you a married woman!"

The idiot. Ziva relaxed.

"I am about to be a widow,"

"Hey, now McGorgeous, what are you doing with-,"

"Out, out, out!"

"Tim. Don't – Ok fine,"

There was the sound of a door banging and to Ziva's surprise a snicker came from Gibbs. He was shaking with supressed laughter. She too smiled and tried to think just what Tim could have threatened Tony with to get him to move so quickly.

"Sheesh, probie has got a vicious streak to her, boss,"

"Perhaps another sexual harassment seminar is in order, Tony?" she spoke while glancing around to make sure their inactivity had not been noticed. There were no twitching curtains or staring residence. Good.

"I think you could be right, Ziva," Gibbs agreed with her.

"Boss, McGee doesn't really mind. She is just a bit touchy about some things,"

Yes. Like being walked in on when in the shower. Such a thing did not bother Ziva, after all, she made regular excursions into the men's restroom. But such a thing did bother Timothy McGee and that Tony did not respect this rankled on her.

Lesson serving pranks began to shoot through her mind. She knew that Tim would not retaliate – on the few occasions when she had seen the young woman take steps to stick up for herself in such a way things had a horrible habit of backfiring on her – so Ziva would do it for her.

All she had to do was think of the perfect-

"Ziva, get the gear,"

Gibbs' order brought he rout of her planning and she rushed to do as she was told. There was plenty of time to think of something to set Tony in his place and teach him that sometimes going too far even in jest was not acceptable.

 **These one-shots have developed a very bad habit of not going the direction I intended them to… As Tony has a habit of walking in on female team members in the shower (Kate) I thought this one wouldn't be so far fetched. And definitely a lot cheerier than the last chapter :(**

 **This is actually a one-shot this time. No part 2. :)**

 **Up next will be more Jethro the dog. :)**

 **Take care.**

 **:)**


	19. My Hero 1 of 4

Tim opened the door of her apartment, the keys feeling like a lead weight in her hand, her body aching all over.

It was only 6pm and yet it was very nearly pitch black outside. She had made her way into her apartment block by the light of the street lamps and the occasional passing car.

She pushed open her door and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. It took several attempts but finally her fingers landed on the switch and her hallway light blazed brightly. Tim hardly had the chance to drop her bag and put her keys in the inside lock before she was attacked by a large body made of fur and bad breath.

She collided hard with the wall as the German Shepherd pounced at her, whining in welcome and panting his doggy breath right into her face.

She laughed as the weight of his sudden greeting brought her to her knees and squealed when his wet nose found its way through her scarf to her already shilled skin.

"Hello, sweetie," she crooned, stroking the excited animal wherever she could reach and burying her face into his neck, "Who's been a good boy today?" she asked and he backed away from her to perform an awkward full-turn and bark at her in answer.

"I bet you have," she praised, getting to her feet and walked the few feet to her living room.

"Who is the smartest puppy in the whole of Washington?" she asked the dog as he bounced around her as she placed her side-arm into the lockable drawer in her writing desk.

She made the mistake of sitting down and groaned happily as her whole body turned to goo on impact.

It had been a long and hard case with poor Jethro only seeing the dog walker for the past three days and Tim not even getting a chance to shower. Oh a shower. A warm, amazing shower. Clean hair. And a warm…cozy…bed.

Her head began to droop where she had it balanced on her hands and it was only the feeling of a heavy head landing on her lap that stopped her from falling asleep where she sat.

Jethro whined and she recognised that look of desperation on his furry face.

"I'm sorry, Jethro. I'll just get changed and then we'll go for a walk,"

Tim dragged herself from the chair and stretched making a quick detour to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and to set her kettle boiling.

Within ten minutes Tim was in her jogging gear (plus several more layers to combat the cold) and clutching a leash in one hand she shoved her phone into her pocket and picked up the disposable cup filled with coffee.

"Who's ready for a walk? Who's ready?" she asked her dog who barked at her, just in case she hadn't realised he was the one currently needing to do his business.

Jethro being the well behaved gentleman that he was sat patiently while she locked her door and zipped her keys into her empty pocket.

He also waited while she gave the light beside her door a hard whack and the bulb spluttered to life. She had left her hallway light on to save any fumbling upon their return and now the walk up the steps would be a bit easier and not so gloomy.

"Ok, boy, let's go"

* * *

It was a five minute walk to the local park and by the time they reached the grassy-doggy haven she had finished her coffee - the warmth seeping into her wonderfully and bringing her a whole new wave of energy – and Jethro had already made use of more than one fire hydrant and lamp.

"Here we are," she released him from the leash and watched him gallop off a few meters to a tree and begin sniffing.

She pressed all of her pockets and sighed in relief when she felt the crinkle of the bags to pick up after him come from her inner pocket.

The park was well lit against the darkness and as it was still pretty early she passed more than one couple or jogger who she exchanged nods and smiles with.

Tim walked at a steady pace, swinging the leash to and fro with each step she took and finally binned her empty cup when she realised she was still carrying it.

"You really are tired, Tim" she muttered to herself, shaking her head to dispel the slight sleepiness that still assaulted her brain despite the boost provided by the coffee. They had been granted three days leave and she had never been gladder of it.

Tony would be out trawling for a fling he could brag about upon his return to work.

Ziva would be…sharpening her knives or something equally intimidating.

Gibbs would no doubt be drinking bourbon and working on his boat.

And Tim, well, she would have an excellent night's sleep once she got home. Flick a duster around her apartment and do some writing and then –

"Hey!"

The sudden shout had her focusing on the here and now and she looked around in a panic trying to locate Jethro. Automatically she unzipped her jacket and began to fumble for the bags. Since becoming a dog owner she knew that park-goers had a tendency to get a bit tetchy upon spying a squatting dog.

She found Jethro under the next streetlamp, pawing at the leg of one of a group of men.

She jogged forward, withdrawing her hand from her pocket.

Looked like a pick-up was going to be avoided for the moment.

"Jethro!"

The dog looked up at her, whined piteously and went back to pawing at the denim leg.

"Hey. Get your dog under control, lady," the man growled harsher than she had ever heard Jethro.

She quickly grabbed him by the collar and dragged him away, still whining like a puppy, when she saw the man's other leg go backwards, ready to land a kick.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, the effort it took to move the dog quickly winding her slightly, especially as he was constantly trying to get back to the man.

She turned them about so she stood between Jethro and the man with the keen leg. Sure she had shot the animal on their first meeting but no one was going to kick him! Besides there had been extenuating circumstances in her case.

"I don't know what's got into him. He only ever acts like this when…" she trailed off slowly when her mind caught up with her mouth.

She struggled to get the leash hooked back onto Jethro's collar and tried to take in everything she could about the men in the light of the orange lamp.

There were four of them. Big men. Hats pulled low over their heads, shading their eyes from her.

The sight of a suspiciously familiar lump under one of the group's jacket had her fingers itching to reach for the weapon she knew she didn't have.

The knife.

Thank you Gibbs and your rules.

Planting a knife somewhere on her person had become so much of a habit that she hadn't even thought about it when she tucked it into the top of her socks.

"When what?" one of the men snapped eyeing both her and her dog with a suspicion she did not like.

"I'm sorry again, gentlemen," she spoke steadily, straightening from reattaching Jethro to the leash and tugging him away, "Come on you, time to go home,"

Quickly.

What had been a pleasantly quiet walk – even in the dark – suddenly became eerie as she forced herself to walk away steadily and then begin a slow jog.

"Hey! You!"

Tim ran.

 **Jethro the doggy is back. YAY! The joys of dog ownership. You spend countless hours chasing bad guys and you still have to take the pooch for a walk when you get home ;)**

 **This is set entirely separately from anything to do with the Owen Grady stuff – sorry there will be no guest appearances. :(**

 **I am sorry again that I haven't been able to reply to any reviews. Crazy life continues to be crazy unfortunately. But thanks again for all the comments. :)**

 **I really hope you have all had an enjoyable and safe weekend and that the week to come treats you well. :)**

 **See you tomorrow with part 2.**

 **Please drop a line and let me know what you think :)**


	20. My Hero 2 of 4

Gibbs enjoyed the feel of the sandpaper gliding over the wood and even more so the smoothness it left in its wake when he ran his fingers over it.

He moved away from the beam of wood to his work bench, blew the sawdust out of the glass sitting there and poured from the bottle of bourbon that sat on the shelf. He had three days of this to look forward to. Three days of sanding and silence – until he decided to switch on the small TV on the wall anyway.

Three glorious days.

The sound of his cell phone ringing had his hand, complete with glass, pausing halfway to his lips.

He glared at the small device on the table but picked it up all the same.

"Gibbs," he barked, putting the glass back down.

The phone number had been unidentified on the screen so there was still hope of this being a sales call.

"I think we have one of your people here Mr Gibbs,"

Gibbs' heart turned to lead in his chest for a moment before it lurched painfully back to life.

"One of my people?" he queried, "Just who is this?"

"I'm sorry sir, this is Officer Thomas. I'm with the Police Department,"

"And what makes you think you have one of my people?"

Gibbs was already heading up the stairs and grabbing his jacket from the back of the living room sofa.

"Well sir, we can't get near to her but we found her phone, your number was the most rang,"

Was it Ziva? Had she got into trouble again? No. It couldn't be.

Abby? That was more likely. She had probably headed straight for a club after work tonight.

"You were under 'Boss',"

Abby wouldn't have him under-

His fingers froze on the handle of his front door.

"Where are you?"

* * *

Gibbs drove madly to the scene – a park – in record time and pulling up on the pavement at the entrance he easily found where he needed to go. Uniformed bodies swarmed along a path.

"Hey, you can't come in here," a young officer told him as he ducked with practised ease under the police tape.

More from reflex than necessity he pulled out his badge and flicked it open.

"I'm Gibbs. I was called," he told the officer, daring him with his eyes to kick him to the other side of the tape.

"Mr Gibbs!" a familiar voice called, "Bill, let him through," the officer stood aside and Gibbs jogged towards the waving figure.

"Officer Thomas?"

"Yeah, that's me, boy am I glad you're here," Gibbs followed the other man further down the path.

"We can't get closer to her. The only reason we could call you was because her phone had been stolen, we got your details from there,"

"Just what happened?"

Thomas didn't even get the chance to start answering when Gibbs froze at the sight that met his eyes.

A German Shepherd was standing protectively in front of a park bench that was placed in a small alcove to the side of the path. At first Gibbs couldn't make out just what the dog was being so fierce in defending until he spotted a light blue leg underneath the bench.

He crouched down low enough to get a clear view of exactly what was beneath the bench and saw that a body was connected to the leg beneath it. They were pressed up against the stone wall at the back of the bench.

"Tim," he called and the dog began to growl in reaction to this interference on his part.

"We think she might have a concussion. We haven't been able to get much sense out of her since we arrived. We're just waiting on the vet to arrive to put the dog under,"

The dog in question bared its teeth and barked in warning.

"How did she get a concussion? How did she gets messed up in this?" Gibbs was getting more annoyed at being so obviously out of the loop where one of his people were concerned. Tim was not one to get into trouble and to have her so suddenly in danger outside of NCIS business troubled him.

"Narcotics has had their eye on a group for a while now. A big bust was to go down tonight. The detective-" Thomas jerked his thumb behind him, his face showing just what his opinion of this detective was, "says that your girl's dog took an interest in the deal and they pursued her,"

Suddenly it all clicked into place for Gibbs as he remembered just where this particular German Shepherd had come from.

"He's an ex-drug dog," he mumbled, squinting to take in what he could of his agent's form in the shadows of the wall and bench.

"That explains his interest," nodded the officer.

"What about this concussion,"

"We don't know. She was pursued out of sight of the detectives…" Gibbs knew what that meant. They were here to observe a deal, not catch petty muggers, "I was on patrol and heard her screams – at least I thought they were hers,"

"Was someone else hurt?" Gibbs burst in.

"You could say that," Thomas smiled viciously, "One of the perps had a knife sticking out of his arm,"

 _That's my girl._

"We don't know for sure that she is injured sir," Thomas continued apologetically, "It's just that we found her hoodie and there was blood on the hood. Her phone was in her pocket. Even if she isn't hurt, this cold won't be doing her any good,"

Gibbs nodded his head in understanding and the two men waited in silence for the vet to arrive with the tranquiliser. Gibbs hated the waiting but put it to use by pulling out his phone and calling the one person he knew would be good in such a situation.

"Hey Duck, we've got a situation,"

* * *

The dog was finally sedated after putting up quite a savage fight to remain with his mistress and Tim had been carefully moved from beneath the bench by the paramedics.

Gibbs felt sick as he watched one of the men feel around her head and his gloved hand came away bloody.

"Miss, can you hear me?" he called to her and all she did was moan as she was placed gently on a board, her head immobilised, and her body wrapped up against the cold.

"Her names Tim," Gibbs supplied, from his hovering position.

"Tim, Tim, can you hear me?" the paramedic tried again, a groan the only answer.

Gibbs felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

 **Tada.**

 **I honestly know nothing about drugs busts etc so…yeah…I got the stinky Detective behaviour from watching a few Blue Bloods episodes. Most of the detectives seem to be utter prats at first to Jamie and his partner – and then Jamie and partner go and solve the case (haha serves them right). I now realise this will make no sense to anyone who doesn't watch that show so I will shut up now.**

 **Ps but it is REALLY good though and for Magnum PI fans it has Tom Selleck in it ;)**

 **Please let me know what you think.**

 **Remember, comments keep the fairies alive.**

 **Take care**

 **:)**


	21. My Hero 3 of 4

Gibbs paced the waiting room with all the patience he was known for. None. And then some.

He had gone from sitting to pacing, to sitting again more than once and even the nurses who had been passing regularly over the past hour or so had lost count of just how many times he had gone through this cycle. Down. Up. Walk around. Down. Up. Walk around. Although, they would admit that he had broken up the sequence at least once to go to the coffee machine at the end of the hall for some terrible machine paint thinner.

He had winced at the initial taste but had chugged back three of the small Styrofoam cups within minutes of each other.

"Sir," the nurse at the desk caught his attention when he went striding past her desk for the third time in 60 seconds – the waiting area was only a small one after all - he turned his gaze on her, "why don't you go to the cafeteria, I can send someone to fetch you when the doctor had finished,"

It a show of open rebellion Gibbs shook his head, told her he was just fine where he was, and sat down.

In two minutes he was back up and pacing again.

* * *

"Jethro,"

Gibbs looked up from the coffee machine where he was collecting his fifth cup of the swill they thought to pass off as semi-decent coffee. They probably thought anyone who found themselves in a waiting room long enough to need a drink didn't really care about the taste.

"Duck,"

He ignored the change the machine was spitting out at him and coffee in hand met the doctor halfway along the hall.

"Any news?" he held out the untouched drink to the older man who simply shook his head with a grimace, eyeing the murky liquid like it would spring some unknown creature.

"You can come in and see her now,"

* * *

Gibbs did not like hospitals.

And walking into the room and seeing Timothy McGee hooked up to a heart monitor and with a bandaged head put him off them even more. The monitor was beeping steadily so it did have that in its favour tonight.

She was laying back with her eyes shut but her fingers were tapping against her hospital issue linen covering her stomach.

She was pale – even for her – and had some swelling beginning to show along her cheek.

Gibbs' anger began to rise again.

One of them had struck her on top of giving her the concussion or had the hit been a contributing factor to the head injury. Had she gone down after receiving it? He hated not knowing.

"Is she alright?" he spoke low, out of reflex of being in a hospital he supposed. After all, if her tapping fingers were anything to go by she was not asleep

"The vomiting has stopped and she is less confused. We have to keep her awake though for a while longer just to make sure of no other side effects. She suffered quite a blow to the head. Luckily though, apart from some bruising there was no damage to her skull and the chill she received has not developed into hypothermia,"

"What about the blood?" Gibbs asked, remembering being told about the bloody piece of clothing and then seeing Tim's blood matted hair when she was pulled from beneath the bench.

"It was a bleeder. But superficial," Ducky explained as he shut the door gently behind them.

Ducky approached the bed and Gibbs followed at his heals.

"Tim, my dear, you aren't supposed to go to sleep, you know," Ducky reproved her gently as he touched her shoulder.

"I'm not asleep," her voice was rough.

From the cold or from screaming for help?

"Oh really?" Ducky teased.

Gibbs watched them closely as Tim opened her eyes and she smiled slowly at Ducky.

"Are you questioning my word, doctor?" she sounded warn out, some of her words slurring together and Gibbs noticed her eyes weren't quite focusing on any one thing, but there was a strain of humour in her tone that seemed almost inappropriate under the circumstances.

"Not at all my dear," he patted her cheek with the affectionate touch of a father.

Gibbs stared.

When had he missed that?

"Someone is here to see you, Tim,"

Ducky stepped aside to sit in the chair at the other side of the bed and Gibbs filled the space he left beside the bed.

"Boss?" Tim frowned at him, her eyes holding a confusion that had nothing to do with the concussion.

"Hey," Gibbs had no idea what to say, this was fresh ground for him.

DiNozzo, Abby, hell even Ziva, he would have no problems talking to in the same situation but with Tim he froze up. It was just so alien to him, having the young woman in a hospital bed like this.

Ducky came to his rescue.

"The police officers searched your phone and contacted him my dear," he explained simply.

A look of comprehension erased the confusion.

"Are you up to telling me what happened, McGee?" Gibbs asked, scanning for a place to sit, but other than the bed and the chair that was already in use there was nowhere. He remained standing.

The heart monitor picked up slightly but she nodded her head.

"I was taking Jethro out for a run. He'd been cooped up inside all day. It went OK until-" she looked up at him, "Boss I think there was some kind of drug deal going down because he just wouldn't leave one of these guys alone. I got him on the leash again and started away and then someone started to pursue. I ran but I wasn't fast enough and when someone grabbed me from behind I tried to-" she paused, a look of raw panic filling her eyes as they widened and darted about the room, looking for something that obviously wasn't there.

"Where is he?"

Whatever calmness Tim had possessed a moment ago was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Who?" Duck rose from his chair and picked up one of her hands, stroking it in an attempt to calm her down.

"Jethro. Where is he Ducky?" her eyes were begging for information.

Gibbs was confused for a moment. Jethro? He was Jethro. But he knew that Tim would rather die than address him by his name. It had taken months for her not to blush when she called him Gibbs, far used to addressing people as Sir or Mister. He figured that was why she gravitated more toward the 'Boss' title. In her head she could pretend it was 'Sir' she was saying.

"Where is the dog?" Ducky translated and Gibbs remembered the name Abby had rechristened the dog with. Just how had Tim ended up with it though? The dog had attacked her after all.

That would have to wait for later.

"In a vets van, sedated," he told them both mater-of-factly.

"Sedated!" Tim sounded appalled at the very idea of her dog being put to sleep against his will – no matter how temporarily, "Was he hurt? Is he alright?"

"He wasn't hurt but it had to be done," Gibbs rushed to calm her down and defend the decision as her heart monitor beeped at an alarming rate, "You've got yourself an excellent guard dog there Tim, he wouldn't let us near you. Putting him out was the only way we could get near you,"

It took a minute or two but eventually Tim was relaxed on the bed again.

"Now that the matter of your four legged hero has been settled my dear," Ducky patted the tops of Tim's hands, "You will be released in the morning if no further side-effects manifest themselves,"

"Shouldn't she have someone with her, Duck?" Gibbs knew all about head injuries. They were tricky things.

"Yes indeed, Jethro. That is why she will be coming home with me," Ducky looked to a surprised Tim, "If you accept, of course my dear," he smiled.

"I...I wouldn't want to put you out Ducky," she stammered.

"Oh you won't be putting me out, besides, mother would love your company and your Jethro can put the corgis in their place – at least for a little while,"

 **Hi guys,**

 **Needless to say I know little to nothing about concussion. Although I do know that they can make you very sick and that you need to stay awake or be woken often…**

 **I hope you liked this instalment.**

 **Please don't forget to drop a line and let me know what you think.**

 **I am sorry for the slight delay. I am trying to learn the bells and whistles of Scrivener for NaNoWriMo so my YouTube video watching went on a little longer than I expected.**

 **:)**


	22. My Hero 4 of 4

Tim was bored out of her mind. Bored. Bored Bored.

Tony had smiled cheekily at her (that smile he wore to cover his worry) and told her she was lucky to score a vacation. But this was nothing like vacation.

Bed rest was boring.

During her vacations she would so all sorts of things.

She would write –

" _Headaches aren't unusual my dear after such a head injury, I wouldn't recommend straining your eyes with anything for the time being,"_

Play computer games with others –

" _Such noises and flashing images would be worse than writing with pen and paper at the moment, my dear,"_

Her last vacation she had gone camping with Jethro…

She was bored.

The first proper day of rest hadn't been so bad. After the shake-up she had received the night in the park and then not being allowed a proper night's sleep encase she never woke up again, finally being able to rest properly had been heavenly.

But not now. Now after four days of this she was ready to get up. Move around. Something.

Her ribs still hurt from where she had been thrown to the ground at such an angle that she had pretty much flown into the base of a tree…or was it a street light…somethings were still more than a little foggy.

She did know though that Jethro had got in a fair few bites of his own.

Only yesterday Ducky had finally announced to the officers who had been badgering him for access to her that she was fit enough to answer questions.

Tim had told the men everything that she had told Gibbs the night in the hospital. She had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time with a dog who happened to have a highly trained nose when it came to some things.

The officers had thanked her for her time and apologised for any inconvenience – not realising that she had almost welcomed the visit – when the elder of the two (Thomas, she remembered) told her of Jethro's bravery.

" _Two of your attackers had to be treated for bites," he smiled._

Her own scars caused by Jethro began to itch at the very mention of dog bites and she only just stopped herself from raising her hand to rub her fingers over the ridged flesh.

He had given her the scars because he wasn't in his right mind. This time he had attacked two men to defend her when she couldn't defend herself. She loved that dog.

" _They'll both be fine but it definitely put them off dogs for a while. The nearly freaked when our own dogs were called to the scene," he laughed, leaving the room._

Tim stroked the top of Jethro's head where he lay beside her on the bed at the memory.

"My hero," she whispered to him.

The dog's ears pricked up at her words as did his head, knocking her hand from between his ears and back onto the bed.

He looked at her and his tail began to wag, hitting against her knee every second.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. You can go out in the garden once Ducky comes home,"

Realising by some form of doggy-sixth-sense that no walk was going to be forthcoming for at least an hour he slumped against her with a sigh full of dog breath.

Tim hissed as the bulk of the dog jarred her ribs but he settled quickly enough and she managed to manoeuvre herself slightly so that the pressure was in less-painful places.

Ducky had gone back to work on the second day of her confinement and she only saw his mother when she escaped from her nurse during the times when the poor woman had to use the bathroom.

Things were very, very dull.

* * *

Tim could feel the soft growling of Jethro through her chest. It rumbled deep, bringing her out of her light dose.

Her hand automatically went to whatever part of his body she could touch and she began to stroke the heavy fur gently, while she tried to convince her eyes to open. It took a while for her brain to come fully online.

Finally both eyelids unstuck she blinked a few times to clear the blurriness and made out the figure of a man at the door of her room.

"Didn't mean to wake you,"

"Gibbs?"

He came further into the room and didn't stop until he was next to her bed.

Jethro continued to growl in warning.

"Behave!" she hissed in embarrassment. This was no way for her dog to treat her boss.

"I don't think he has forgiven me for standing by while they stuck him with sedative,"

Ah, of course.

She shrugged at this.

"I shot him and he forgave me just fine,"

Her smile faded somewhat when she saw the serious crease to his forehead.

"As I recall, he bit you. Perhaps he has learned this forgiveness thing from his mistress,"

"Umm, yeah,"

Gibbs just looked at her.

"Is everything OK, Boss?" she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"How did you get that dog, Tim?" he asked her, each word being fired at her lie a bullet.

There was a steeliness to his tone that she didn't like but she forced herself to stay calm, not wanting Jethro to pick up on any anxiety. He had proved he could attack for her and she had no doubt now that he would go for Gibbs. She did not want to have to deal with that at the moment, thank you very much.

"He was part of a case, Boss,"

"As I recall he bit you. Quite badly from what I-" he trailed off, his eyes darting between both of her shoulders until he focused in on the one Jethro had mangled in his drugged out attack of her.

"It wasn't his fault though," she rushed.

Gibbs didn't speak. He just leaned forward and pushed her loose hair away from her neck.

His lips thinned and he paled.

Without thought Tim knocked his hand away from her neck and pulled all of her hair around to cover that side.

"It's fine," she insisted.

"Why," Gibbs spoke with a deadly calm, "Did you end up with him?" he ground out.

She gulped. How did he not know about everything that had happened during the case? Had he been blind to the cold shoulder and snarky remarks she had been on the receiving end of from Abby.

Tim was glad now that Abby had bullied her into the talking the dog but at the time she had hated the Goth's guts for what she was doing and how she was treating her.

"You know how Abby gets," she mumbled, looking away from Gibbs and to the dog who had stopped growling but was still eyeing Gibbs with the upmost suspicion.

"Abby?"

"Yeah. She was angry with me for shooting him-"

"It was in self-defence!" Gibbs was staring at her hair covered neck.

"And," she continued as if Gibbs hadn't talked, "well…her landlord wouldn't let her keep him…so…" she shrugged, lost for what else to say.

"I'll handle Abby," Gibbs voice was harsh, Tim couldn't remember hearing it so in relation to the scientist before.

She nearly laughed. It was a bit late for Gibbs to swoop in and fix everything.

"Look, Gibbs," she sighed, pushing Jethro's face out of her own when he decided she was in need of a reassuring lick across the mouth, "its fine. Everything worked out fine," of course she didn't spend as much time around Abby as she used to… "I went to classes and learned how to handle him and everything…is fine,"

Gibbs looked at her with his ice cold eyes, trying to peer into her soul.

"Alright, if you say so Tim,"

* * *

Gibbs remained for an awkward couple of minutes - after all she was lying in bed in her pyjamas with a German Shepard all but draped over her lap – before taking his leave.

Jethro relaxed when he left the room. She relaxed when she heard his car pull away.

She began to laugh as she ran through the conversation in her head.

It started as a small chuckle, then a loud giggle then a full on laugh that had her crying from the pain it brought to her ribs.

"'Handle Abby' he said," she croaked, "That'll be the day Gibbs,"

 **Hi everyone.**

 **So I figured that a girl McGee would be shorter and less strong, making the attack from Jethro the dog worse than it was as she wouldn't have been able to get him off of her as quickly and he wouldn't have had as far to stretch to bite her, making his bite firmer. I could be wrong but it makes sense in my head :)**

 **Anyway. I really hope you enjoyed these four. 'My Hero' shorts.**

 **Next up will be Hawaii 5-0**

 **Take care :)**


	23. Inter-Agency Cooperation 1 of 3

Inter-agency cooperation had been the reason cited to her by the director when she had been called into his office and handed the small card folder that contained her ticket and a prepaid card - "You will find it is more than enough to cover your expenses, Agent McGee. Change would be nice but not necessary" – for her expenses.

She had been given two hours to head back home pack an appropriate bag – "I apologise for the short notice, Agent McGee, but you are the best we have," – for where she was heading and was in a taxi heading to the airport.

She went through things in her mind. Everything had been such a rush.

She had arrived at work and was booting up her computer just as the others walked in when Gibbs had settled into his chair and told her to go and see the director. She had frozen for a moment and just stared at her boss. She had tried to think if there was anything she had done that would have her receiving such a summons alone. After all when there was any kind of call from Vance it was usually the whole team that was about to get an earful.

She hadn't hacked anything recently. Well, nothing that she hadn't been sure to cover her tracks with. Thoroughly.

Had she slipped up somewhere?

"Am I in trouble, boss?" she asked in some confusion before she could stop herself.

Ziva and Tony who had been arguing as usual had stopped mid-flow and she had felt their eyes on her.

"Go up and find out," had been Gibbs' only reply and from habit she obeyed, heading up the stairs with a sick feeling in her stomach.

Sometimes she really hated Gibbs and although most people thought he didn't possess anything like a sense of humour she knew he did. And it was wicked. He had sent her up knowing that she was dreading the worse and yet knowing that she wasn't in trouble.

Pushing those thoughts to the side she went back to her check list.

She had closed and locked all of her windows, her door was locked and she had left no taps running. Jethro had been dropped off at the kennels. She had spent weeks finding one when she had first settled to the idea of having him in her life full time and she had made sure to take enough food along to last him a week.

And then there was her bag.

She had thrown together the things that she had needed in record time, knowing that most of her two hour allowance was going to be spent getting her dog sorted out.

Tim knew for sure that she had at least remembered her bag of toiletries, underwear and pyjamas in her rush.

That was all the important things.

Tim sat back in the seat and looked at the ticket.

 _Hawaii here I come_.

* * *

"We really appreciate you doing this, Agent McGee,"

Tim walked through the door the man - who had introduced himself as Chin – held open for her.

He had picked her up from the airport the evening before – the almost ten hour long journey turning her mind to mush – and had dropped her off at the hotel with a promise to see her in the morning.

"But not too early," he had smiled as he left her at the hotel desk.

He had kept his promise, coming to fetch her just after ten – not that she would have minded being picked up earlier, years of being on Gibbs' team had conditioned her to rise early and get as much sleep as she could, when she could – and had taken her to the 5-0 headquarters.

Her eyes had nearly popped out of her head at the sight of the building and then the inside.

She turned around in a circle, checking out the room – if it could be called that - she had just been shown into.

"Please it's a pleasure, and call me Tim," she smiled at her companion once she had taken in the room.

"Tim then," he smiled back at her, "You're over here,"

He led her towards an open space where boxes littered the floor, some already open and some not.

She still couldn't stop looking around.

"Nice set-up you have here," she put her bag down and began to look closer at the various boxes, her mouth nearly started to water at some of the tech.

"Yeah, it's not quite home yet, but we're getting there,"

She nodded her head in understanding and began to turn over some of the smaller boxes, studying the labels and checking off their contents in her mind.

Someone had wanted to make sure she didn't run out of wire that was for sure.

All of a sudden realising what she was doing she put the box she was studying back down and took a step away from it.

"I'm sorry, that was very rude,"

Chin only smiled at her.

He had a lovely smile. The kind that shot straight from his lips to his eyes.

"Don't worry about it. Have fun. That's what you are here for after all,"

He explained to her that the 'others' were on a case and wouldn't be back until later on as they were working from HPD until things were up and running in the palace.

Palace. They were going to be working from a freaking historical monument.

"You pulled the short straw, huh?" she asked him as she went back to the boxes now that she had been given permission to do so.

She was here on orders from the director and as such she had to make a good impression.

 _No more slip ups Tim._

"Not at all. Believe it or not I am the friendliest of us all,"

"I don't find that hard to believe at all," and she didn't. He had filled the drive from the hotel with lively chatter and had pointed out things that he thought she would find interesting. There had been no awkward silences at all.

"And I will also be the one keeping this thing up and running,"

"Ah," Tim chuckled, "An ulterior motive,"

"Exactly," Chin rubbed his hands together like a comic book villain and she shook her head laughing.

Tim was going to like it here.

"Can I get you anything before you start? Tea? Coffee?" Chin asked, all seriousness now.

"Coffee would be wonderful thank you,"

As Chin went off Tim studied the boxes and grinned.

She was about to build what would basically be a miniature MTAC, Tim was in heaven.

"Come to mama," she crooned.

 **Tada. So, the idea of a Hawaii 50 story wasn't actually this, but when I got thinking about the idea I loved the thought of Tim being involved in getting them set up with their system. :)**

 **Another one coming tomorrow. I had so much fun writing the Tim/Tony scenes for the next two…**

 **Please let me know that you think.**

 **Take care**

 **:)**


	24. Inter-Agency Cooperation 2 of 3

Tim was loving her assignment. Up to her elbows – and sometimes neck – in wires she was having more fun than she had had in ages. She enjoyed her work, of course she did - she had worked very hard to get onto Gibbs' team and she wouldn't give up her work at NCIS for anything - but she was still a techy at heart and she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.

One by one she had been introduced to the 5-0 team by Chin and they had been a pleasant and welcoming group of people.

Kono – the only woman on the team – was a smiling, happy person who had suggested taking Tim out for a try at surfing before she returned home. In an uncharacteristic move Tim had accepted immediately and was dreading the coming surfing lesson. _You've done it now, McGee._ And was grateful that the project was keeping her busy and unavailable.

Danny was a highly strung man who always seemed to be moving and 'having words' with his partner - who he viewed as a bit of an adrenaline junkie from what she could understand - but once she had asked about his family there was no stopping him talking about his daughter.

Then there was the fearless leader. Steve McGarrett. That man had Issues. With a capital I. Hell, in all capitals. He all but shouted the fact that he had his own pet demons that he was in the process of training to do tricks. She wondered what it was about Marines (and now SEALS) that meant they just collected issues like people collected stamps or spoons. Was it some kind of hobby? What would they do for focus in their life if they didn't have these things spurring them on? Still he was pleasant enough when Danny prodded him in the ribs with an elbow and after he had given her a cursory up and down glance and a 'thank you' she hadn't seen him again. Which worked fine for her.

Right now she was on her back below what would eventually be the smart table if she had anything to say about it. It wasn't on its legs yet so it was only two or so feet above the ground on support beams while she messed about with the wiring and got the sequences correct. A laptop was beeping softly to the side as it ran diagnostics on the connections and wiring.

She had been forced to shed her cardigan almost two hours ago. The building was air-conditioned but it was still hot work in an environment far warmer than she was used to working in and despite the thinness of her blouse and cardigan the sweat had been beading on her forehead and causing her skin to itch. She hadn't realised just how warm she was until she was cool again.

The scars that littered her neck and shoulder from Jethro's drug induced attack on her had caused her to very rarely go around in anything too revealing but there was nothing else for it. Besides, these people weren't her team and the chances of her seeing them again were next to nothing. And then of course there was what was obviously - for anyone who knew about these things - a bullet wound on her shoulder from her first 'mission' with Kort.

All in all her shoulder looked like some kind of mangled attempt at Frankenstein's Monster.

She sighed in exasperation and teased some wires apart before glaring at her phone. It was on speaker by her hip. Speaker phone, she had decided in the last half an hour, was the worst inventions ever. It had been half an hour ago that Tony had called her and he just wasn't going away.

"I'm not on holiday, Tony," she sighed, "I promise I am not on the beach, I have been in a building the whole time," the 'whole time' being almost three days, "the only time I have been outside has been when I have been going to and from my hotel at night,"

"That's what you say, how can I believe you? You are in Hawaii, Tim! Even you must be tempted to play hooky for a day,"

"Tony, go away, I am busy," she groaned instead of giving him a reply. He could get so annoying when he got this whiny way.

He was jealous. She knew that basically that was his problem.

Tim was never sent away anywhere. It was always Tony or Ziva – or on the rare occasion when a Marine haircut was required, Gibbs – who were sent 'away' on missions or protection details. Never McGeek

"No. I want details," the man-child moaned petulantly, she could hear a rustle in the background and quickly calculated the time in her head. Yip, he was at work right now.

"Tony, Gibbs is going to head-slap you into next week if he catches you with your feet up and spitting paper at Ziva," she told him sternly.

There was the satisfying sound of him chocking and spluttering.

"How did you know that?" he gasped, "Are you back and spying on me? Not nice Probie,"

Tim rolled her eyes and abandoned the wire. She wasn't going to get anything done until this idiot hung-up.

"I am not back and there are no 'details', Tony," she was getting more than a little annoyed now, "I am here to do a job,"

"How much longer will you be?"

"I'll be as long as it takes Tony," she sighed heavily and rubbed at her eyes, wishing he would leave her alone already.

"Please, Tim," just how long had he worked on perfecting that whine, "You have to come back and rescue me from the ninja,"

"Tony, I haven't even been gone that long, now go away,"

"Please, please, please. You are the longest relationship I have had with a woman – except my mom," he added as an afterthought, "I am getting withdrawal, you have to come home,"

"Gee, thanks Tony," she replied dryly, "Go away,"

"But-"

Tim reached for her phone.

"I'm hanging up now,"

"You wouldn't!"

"Goodbye Tony,"

She pressed the heavenly red button and silence reigned once again.

 **Hi everyone.**

 **Hope Friday has treated you/is treating you all well and that you have a nice safe and enjoyable weekend. For all you who do daylight saving time, don't forget the clocks go back this weekend. One whole extra hour in bed come Sunday morning :)**

 **Anyway, I hope you are enjoying this latest 'collection' in the collection ;)**

 **Thank you so much for all of your feedback and support. You are all awesome!**

 **See you tomorrow with part 3 (my favourite out of this little group ;))**

 **Take care.**

 **:)**


	25. Inter-Agency Cooperation 3 of 3

Tim slumped forward over the table and then straightened again rapidly to catch her paper-cup of coffee as she nearly sent it flying.

What had started out as fun assignment had quickly turned into a fun and exhausting assignment when she had passed the 7 days mark. Delays from suppliers and damaged parts had led to long periods of doing nothing, followed by the excitement of unpacking new boxes – only to find out (more often than not) that the parts that had arrived were useless until something else arrived to make them less so.

It was six in the morning and she had been hoping that a delivery that had been due the evening before would have arrived during the night or before her. Tim had been all set to get started until she was told by Phil (the night- guard) that nothing had arrived.

He had taken pity on her and poured her a cup of steaming coffee from his own flask before she had left him in the lobby. Tim had sat and sulked for a while until her phone had lit up by her elbow where she had placed it, showing that Ziva was calling.

Realising that it was lunch back home she wondered if Ziva had forgotten about the time difference.

She shrugged to herself, it didn't matter anyway, and answered the call.

"Hi, Ziva,"

"Are you having a good time Tim?"

She had been about to answer when Tony's voice had sounded in the distance

"Is that McGee? Give me the phone,"

"No, Tony. I am speaking with McGee," Ziva had argued and there had been a slight rustle that Tim could only guess was the sound of Ziva trying to keep the phone from Tony.

"Come on Ziva. I want to talk to Mc5-0,"

"No. Call her yourself," Ziva had snapped.

"She won't talk to me," he whined, "She always says she's busy,"

It was true, after the first phone call Tony had stayed true to form and only called when she was up to her elbows in wires.

The fight between her two teammates had been interrupted by the sound of Gibbs voice.

"Ziva, share with Tony,"

"But Gibbs-"

"Share,"

"Yes! Thank you, Boss. Hey McGee,"

So now she was stuck yet again with Tony on the phone and yet again she was highly tempted to hang up on him. Unfortunately she couldn't, because, unlike the last half a dozen times, there wasn't even the slightest whiff of a wire – of any colour.

He had spent the last couple of minutes chatting about his latest conquest before he finally took a breath.

She heard the unmistakable sound of running water and-

"Tony! Are you in the head?" she asked disbelievingly, sitting up straighter in shock.

He wouldn't. Would he?

"Yeah,"

Yes he would.

"Tony, that is disgusting." Her face crinkled at the thought.

"I'm in the head but not using it McGee. Sheesh. Give me some credit,"

"Then why?"

"Hiding from Ziva. I think she was inventing a new way to kill me with a paperclip,"

"I wonder why?" she mumbled dryly, taking a sip from her rescued coffee cup.

It was good. She'd have to ask Phil where he got his coffee from

"I dunno,"

She could just imagine him looking in the mirror and checking on his hair while he hid.

A wicked smile came to her lips.

"I would lock yourself in a stall if I were you. You know the 'little agent's room' isn't safe from Ziva,"

There was a silence on the other end of the line until she heard a bang and the sound of the bolt being pulled on the chosen stall's door.

"I knew you were my favourite for a reason, Tim,"

Tim rolled her eyes. He was an idiot.

"You may like to know that I was planning on asking Ziva to check on Jethro. Maybe you can do it,"

"Jethro. Wow. I didn't know you and the Boss were on such close terms McSneaky. Don't worry I will make sure he doesn't fall into a depression during your absence. Speaking of which. How much longer will you be?"

"I meant my dog," she told him sternly, really not in the mood for his antics, "I only supplied enough food for a week and the kennel's food will be disagreeing with him,"

She had already called them to increase the number of days he would be staying with them and they were alright with feeding him from their supplies but she worried about him and having him with his own food would help her relax a little.

"You want me to go on a kibble run?" Tony sounded insulted.

"You can always pass me back onto Ziva,"

"No way. I'll do it,"

"Thank you Tony," she couldn't keep the relief from her voice, "I'll text you the type of food. A week's supply should do him,"

"A week? Tim," he whined again now that he was back his favourite topic.

"I'm sorry Tony, this is taking a bit longer than anticipated,"

 _A lot_ longer.

"I need my fix of computer nerd," he mumbled.

"Go down to cybercrimes, there's a whole department of us,"

" _My_ computer nerd, they're-" he paused and Tim took another sip of coffee while she waited for him to find the right word. It seemed that he was actually missing her, and she would be lying if she didn't say that it was nice, "strangers," he finally finished lamely.

"Strangers?"

"Yeah, and mom always said I wasn't to talk to strangers,"

She rolled her eyes. He really was an idiot.

The sound of the door banging closed had her turning her head rapidly only to relax when the tall frame of McGarrett came into view.

"Look Tony, I have to go,"

"No, we have to talk, we talk every day, I'm getting withdrawal,"

Wow, he was desperate.

"Tony I have to get back to work,"

She felt awkward talking to Tony while McGarrett was in the same room. No noise or anything, just her voice.

"Fine," he mumbled and she heard the sound of the stall being unlocked and opened.

"What are you looking at?" Tony snapped at some poor soul who had obviously picked the wrong time to use the facilities.

"Tony, I won't be that much longer ok. It's only been a week. It's like vacation time. We don't see each other then,"

"This is different," he pouted.

She heard the squeak of the door of the men's room opening as he stepped out.

"Please don't forget about Jethro, ok? I'll text you everything you need to know,"

"I won't forget,"

"Tony!" Tim could hear Ziva through the phone, "Give me that. I wish to speak with McGee,"

"Gotta go Tim,"

And just like that the line went dead.

Tim put her phone back on the table with a smile and a shake of her head and stood, turning to face McGarrett.

"Good morning, Commander," she smiled.

"It's just Steve," the man grumbled as opened the safe in the wall that was being used as the weapons vault until each team member had a functioning lockable desk drawer.

"That you're boyfriend wanting you home?"

Tim very nearly chocked on the coffee she was just about to swallow.

"No, my partner,"

"Partner? Isn't that the same thing?"

She watched him put in the last digit of the combination and pull open the door.

"Um, no. Partner as in…" he glanced at her and she pointed to the one weapon already in the vault that he hadn't noticed yet. Her weapon.

"You're a field agent?" his voice sounded almost as shocked as his face looked.

Oh boy. It was going to be one of _those_ mornings.

 **Hi everyone.**

 **I honestly have no idea where this version of Tony came from I just loved the idea of him not liking Tim being away for too long and wanting to be in contact all the time and getting mopey because he isn't getting to see her as much.**

 **Next up…Well…who caught the hint in one of these shorts? It had something to do with a certain CIA agent we all know…**

 **Take care everyone.**

 **:)**


	26. Delicious Minds

"These guys freak me out,"

Tim made a sound of agreement in her throat but said nothing. Choosing instead to focus on the man behind the glass. The murderer who had fooled them all – even Gibbs – up until the last minute. She had bruises to show just how close of a close call it had been for her. How close she had come to dying.

Gibbs burst into the interrogation room, making the sound of the door opening far more jolting than if it had slammed shut. Tim still couldn't figure out how he accomplished that.

"Ah, Agent Gibbs," a cold snake of dread slithered up her spine as she remembered that voice speaking into her ear. Remembered his hands – smooth, without a patch of dry skin to be felt – tenderly stroking up and down her bound arms, apologising for the bruising the restraints were causing to her wrists. Tim had actually drawn blood with her fruitless struggles and her stomach rolled a the memory of him lifting her wrists to his mouth, his tongue snaking out –

She lifted the water bottle she had forgotten was in her hand and took a gulp. Now was not the time to have a freak out. Not now. Maybe when she got home. Maybe then and only then.

Ziva was next to step into the room. Closing the door with a firm push behind her the Mossad Officer stood with her back against it, arms across her chest, glaring at the doctor in such a way that Tim was certain she had just invented a new way of 'death-by-paper-clip'.

Gibbs left her to it while he just sat opposite the man who had killed so many, with the file open in front of him. The file she would usually have helped assemble, but, as she had been a bit tied up at the time she hadn't even seen the finished result. She knew though that there would be pictures of the bodies they had found. But what else did it contain?

Tim made herself look away from Gibbs and look at the man who had nearly taken her life.

She had been close to death before. It was a weekly occurrence unless they caught a blessedly simple and quiet case. But this time was different.

The man looked almost disappointed as he studied Gibbs. A small frown creasing his forehead.

"Where is the delicious-" he licked his lips and she clutched the water bottle tightly in her hands, causing the plastic to dent and make a loud cracking noise. It almost made her jump. "-Agent McGee"

Gibbs ignored the question while Ziva, who was still standing sentry at the door, tensed slightly and lowered the foot that had been planted against the door so that both feet were on the ground.

"Officer Da'vid and I shall be conducting this interviews, Doctor,"

"How…dull,"

 _Dull?_

"Dull," Tony echoed at her side with a chuckle, no doubt imagining the various ways that Ziva could make the man beg for mercy.

"How so?" Ziva finally stepped away from the door and circled the man, staying behind him in an attempt to keep him on the edge. McGee knew it wouldn't work.

He began to laugh. It was low at first but grew in volume until Gibbs, having enough, slammed his hand down on the table, demanding to know what was so funny.

"You," the doctor gestured with his head between Gibbs and Ziva, "You think you are so special. Please," he scoffed in disgust, "I could walk into any federal organisation or precinct in any city and find your copies. Now, Agent McGee, she is something," he licked his lips again and Tim shivered in revulsion, "Unique,"

 _Hear that McGee, the psychopathic cannibal thinks you are unique. Don't you feel special?_

Not exactly the proudest moment in her career she would be the first to admit.

"Why, why, why," Tony moaned beside her, "Do we always get the crazies?"

She ignored him, keeping her attention on the room.

"Mmm," the Doctor groaned in pleasure.

Tim wanted to be sick.

"I would have loved to pick her apart. Her brain would have been…exquisite,"

Gibbs had obviously reached his limit.

"We are not here to discuss Agent McGee," he snapped.

"Touchy," mocked the man who was far too arrogant for one on the wrong side of the interrogation table.

Gibbs pulled photos from the file, spreading them out onto the table, spinning each one of them to face the murderer.

"We are here to discuss this," Gibbs jabbed a finger at one of the pictures.

McGee knew what the pictures were of. Bodies. Bodies missing the parts that had been found…appetising by the lunatic opposite Gibbs.

Her stomach clenched and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

She lifted the bottle again to her lips and took a sip. The water had heated in the bottle and instead of offering some relief from the bile rising in her throat it seemed to only make it worse, adding to the slight feeling of confusion that washed over her.

Her hands shaking, she forced them to do what she wanted. In a detached, dreamlike way she tightened the lid after several false starts.

Her hands were sweating. She rubbed one and then the other against her shirt, almost dropping the bottle as she switched it between her hands.

The man was identifying the various victims now. Smiling in satisfaction as he listed the 'tantalising morsels' he had enjoyed from them.

Soon he had exhausted the photos and Tim was finding it difficult to listen over the ringing in her ears. Tony was closer to her. She could feel his arm pressing against her own.

When had that happened?

The man had grown silent for a moment.

"Shall I tell you how you would have found Agent McGee, Agent Gibbs?"

She shivered.

He didn't even wait for a reply from Gibbs or Ziva, he just continued to talk.

He spoke of what he would have done to her, what he would have used to gain access to her 'mouth-watering mind'. Where they would have found her body…

She couldn't stop it any longer.

She spun away from the window and on wobbling legs took the few steps to the small bin.

Her legs finally collapsed beneath her as she coughed and heaved into the bin.

Someone – Tony – was rubbing her back, but it offered no relief as tears were forced from her eyes with every lurch of her stomach.

She was alive and the others were dead.

She could have been one of them.

 **Sorry guys, this isn't what I was intending to post but I forgot all about it.**

 **I honestly have no idea where this one came from…**

 ***think think think***

 **Nope, still coming up blank. Possibly from my aunt talking about 'Hannibal' to me (I don't watch it). The guy in this isn't Hannibal but I do remember that a cannibal in a Bones episode was a Doctor…**

 **Yeah, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this.**

 **Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.**

 **Have a nice day/evening.**

 **Take care and I will see you tomorrow with the intended update :)**


	27. A Deal with the Devil - CIA 1 of 6

Tim sat opposite the man who she had met only a handful of times since beginning her job at Norfolk. He had been brought into her office one day, introduced as someone who would be 'observing', and left unceremoniously in the doorway. She had thought little of it at the time. It was part of her line of work to be watched by a person bearing a clipboard every now and again. But there had been no clipboard and he had come and gone for a handful of months before she had been all but ordered out for a cup of coffee with him.

And now it all made sense.

The CIA.

There was something hard about this man, which in retrospect should have really alerted her to his profession before she was told. It was something that made her feel he had been in his line of work far too long.

"You won't even consider it?" he spoke steadily, his British accent gorgeous to her ears, but she shook her head and reached for the mug of coffee on the table. She liked flavoured coffee, usually vanilla or something more festive like nutmeg at Christmas, but she hadn't dared to ask for anything other than coffee with milk under the man's gaze.

She sipped the bitter drink, grateful for the caffeine anyway it came to her. Flavoured or not.

The man remained silent and she took a deep breath to give herself some courage. She was a natural people pleaser and she didn't like saying 'no' to anyone. But she had proved to herself that she could do just that when it was something that mattered to her. She had done it before and she was about to do it again.

"I have worked hard to get where I am now, Mr Kort," she told him.

"I am aware of that Miss McGee. That is why we are interested in having you join us,"

He smiled at her. It was the kind of smile she was sure the devil wore when holding out the pen to Faust.

"Your skills are wasted here, Miss McGee. You must know that,"

Tim's fingers twisted and she fought the uncharacteristic urge to cover the man with the contents of her mug. Had anyone ever done that to him before? The line of business he was in probably led to things of a far deadlier persuasion than a mug of coffee being thrown his way.

Tim knew her abilities and what she was capable of doing, and she wasn't being conceited when a part of her agreed with him. If she put her mind to it she could liquidate any million dollar company she chose with a few clicks and strokes and no one would know it was her. And then there were the few occasions when she was younger (and very bored) and had hacked into various government agencies. The FBI had been fun – even if things had turned rather terrifying when several very serious looking men had shown up at the door – but she had never thought of giving the CIA a try. And she wouldn't now. No. She would behave. She did not hack anymore.

So yes, her talents weren't exactly being used to the full from her little office that was so stacked with papers she dreaded a dry spell because her room would go up in a puff of smoke. But she loved her paperwork filled office, every day when she walked in it was a reminder that she was on her way. She was on the road to where she wanted to be and one day she would be in the Navy Yard and will have 'made it'.

She would earn every step she took closer – no name dropping for Timothy (Yes, I'm a girl, thank you) McGee. And she wasn't going to give up her dream because some cocky spook thinks a little bit of flattery will have her running to the 'Agency'. No sir! She could wait a bit longer for Washington without selling her soul.

"Mr Kurt, thank you for the compliment, but I have my plans and I am content here," she spoke as calmly as she could, thinking out the words and uttering them steadily so as not to stutter like she usually did when flustered. Thankfully, despite the rather freaky impression he gave her, he also had a way of making her feel like he had all the time in the world to listen to her and she had managed well so far with only a few stumbles.

He didn't say a word, only nodded his head in apparent understanding and gestured for her to finish her coffee.

She sipped and thought.

Since taking up her position in Norfolk Tim had jumped at every opportunity at improvement that came her way. She loved to learn. She wasn't the kind of person who hung every certificate of learning she received from her wall but she did have a folder at home that was growing fatter with every passing month she spent at NCIS. After all, if she was going to be a field agent she needed to be up to date on as much as she could be, as she knew she was at a disadvantage from not coming from a military or law enforcement background.

She wanted to continue working for NCIS and she would stick it out in her little office as long as she needed, but was she really too stubborn to accept this chance when it came knocking?

Well…

She put her mug back onto the table top.

There was no harm in asking after all.

"Perhaps," the man's eyes shot to her, "We could come to a compromise,"

He smiled a slow and predatory smile and put his own mug onto the table with a soft thud.

He leaned forward and she was sure his eyes twinkled in glee – if 'twinkled' could be applied in any way to a man who probably had a hit-list quota to reach before he had his breakfast.

"What do you have in mind, Miss McGee,"

Tim swallowed loudly.

If she wasn't going to sell her soul perhaps she could rent it out for a little while.

 **I couldn't resist having a 'Kort tries to get McGee to join the CIA' one-shot and I kind of ran with it.**

 **There is more Kort/McGee to come in the next couple of chapters. :)**

 **Take care :)**


	28. A Drive with the Devil - CIA 2 of 6

"'Come for a drive,' he said," Tim grunted.

"'It'll be quick,' he said," she heaved.

"'You won't even realise you've been gone,' he said,"

"Shut up woman," groaned the body she was dragging along the floor.

For that unwanted comment Tim purposefully dragged him roughly down two steps. He swore in pain and she smiled viciously. Served him right.

Of course guilt quickly followed on the heels of her silent cheer of vindication, causing a chill that had nothing to do with the weather to run down her spine.

It really was his own fault that they were in this situation but he was miserable enough without her adding to it. But still…

Trent Kort had been her…contact? Handler? At the CIA for almost a year, and during that time she had analysed data and untangled code that had apparently flummoxed others. And now – apparently – she was being snuck out into the field. Wither it was sanctioned by the higher-ups or not she didn't know.

Not that she was complaining about the field work. What she _was_ complaining about was the freedom he had taken with the truth of the situation.

"'It'll be a quick job,'" she took up grumbling again, her mock British accent sounding awful even to her own ears. But, under the circumstances, what else could be expected? Here she was almost bent double and dragging along a man who was basically a dead weight – Tim wished he would live up a little bit more to the 'dead' part and be quieter, his comments were not required right now.

"In and out," she mumbled softly, coaching herself through some breathing before she began to panic. .

Well, that 'quick job' had led to a cat and mouse chase of almost an hour and a broken leg for Kort. Which was why she was dragging him in this very undignified manner back to the car as he had refused to let her call an ambulance from the building.

She glanced back at the office building they had left. There was no sign of anyone – not that there should be after the mess Kort had left behind – and the only light came from the faint night lights that shone in every room through the blinds of the windows.

Thankfully there was also no random passers-by outside the building to start asking awkward questions either.

"Are you always this chatty when you are being shot at?" Kort groaned as they finally reached the car and she managed with some manoeuvring to prop his back against the rear tier of the passenger side. She raided the breast pocket of his jacket for the keys. Finding them she nearly crowed in victory but settled for glaring at him, telling him to mind his head and opening the back door.

Blowing towards her forehead to try and cool herself down a little she braced herself beside the damaged CIA agent. With a lot of grunting from her, swearing from him, and dumb luck, they somehow got him into the back seat with his legs stretched out.

One leg was at a sickening angle and his face had paled to an awful chalky colour.

She needed to get him to the hospital before he went into shock.

Taking off her jacket she flung it over him. The man may be some kind of government super-agent – not that she would know as that sort of information was probably classified – but a broken leg hurt no matter your status and she was sure the shakes would begin soon.

Making sure his head was free of the door – giving the man a concussion would be the icing on the cake of disaster that had been this evening – she closed the door.

Just as she turned to walk around to the driver's side the side mirror exploded. She looked at it in shock for a moment. Wondering what on earth would make the mirror do such a thing. Then there was a loud crash and a hole with a spider's web of cracks appeared in the window of the front passenger's side.

That got her attention.

Tim dashed around the front of the car, another bullet flying by her, followed closely by another that hit the light at the top of one of the bollards that lined the edge of the sidewalk.

She flung open the door and scrambled in not even stopping to try and spot where the shooter was stationed.

The force she had used opening the door made it bounce back and she just got her foot in before it was caught by the closing door.

Well, this was just great.

With shaking fingers she rammed in the key, turned it and with a strong desire to stay alive drove away, trying to stay as crouched down as she could.

Once she cleared the building after a few seconds, she straightened. Realising she was relying purely on the street lamps she fumbled for the lights, only succeeding in turning them on after stumbling across the window wipers.

That brought back some memories.

Her mind was in a whirl. She was aware of Kort speaking to her but she couldn't quite make out his words.

They must have fired from one of the many windows of the building. But Tim had thought Kort had taken care of their unexpected companions. Had one of them survived or had there been more of them?

 _Does it really matter Tim? Honestly stop being so stupid. What kind of an agent are you?_

A very freaked out one at the moment, if she was being honest with herself.

Would they pursue?

If there was more of them maybe they would. If there was just the one survivor trying to get in a lucky shot maybe not.

Either way she was going straight to the hospital.

If this turned out to be some kind of spook training thing, a broken leg would be the least of Kort's troubles. She'd kill him. She was a genius, she was sure she could get away with it.

Finally mastering her breathing, and coming down a little from the adrenaline high that had grabbed her she looked away from the road to glance at her passenger.

"Are you still alive?" she asked.

"Quite," came the dry reply, "Unlike you, I did not get hit,"

She glanced back at the road to make sure she wasn't drifting and looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Hit?"

She could just make out his head moving up and down and his arm coming out to point at her shoulder.

"Hit," he repeated.

Tim turned back to the road to repeat her check and then stole a quick glance in the rear-view mirror to make sure they didn't have a tail. Nothing. Noting rather dryly that the evening had turned into a James Bond movie without her consent, she glanced down at her right shoulder.

Huh.

He was right.

From the light of the street lights they passed she could make out the dark stain blooming on her shirt.

Funny. She hadn't even felt it. Still couldn't actually.

"We need to get you to the hospital," Kort informed her from the back seat.

"I was taking you there anyway," she all but snapped at him.

For goodness sake where did he think she was driving them to?

After ten more minutes of driving and Kort's continuous flow of questions – he was worried about her passing out from blood loss apparently – the adrenaline had finally fled her system. She was beginning to feel cold and keeping hold of the steering wheel was growing more difficult as the pain made itself known in her shoulder and down her arm.

She sighed in relief at the sight of the mile sign to the hospital.

"Congratulations,"

What?

"For what?" she sighed tiredly, feeling less than charitable towards the man in the back seat.

At no time had it been mentioned that she could be shot this evening. But then she had accepted a drive with the devil so she supposed she could only blame herself for the outcome.

"You just completed your very first mission," he groaned as they passed over a speed-bump.

Her first thought was that she hated him but then she smiled through the pain.

He was right. She had.

 **Another little Trent Kort/Tim short for you.**

 **Had no intentions of it turning out as long as it did – I was intending on it to be a third as long and be part of a three part one-shot. Obviously that did not happen…**

 **I really hope you are enjoying these and please don't forget to let me know what you think.**

 **Take care and have a lovely day...or evening :)**


	29. Dinner with the Devil - CIA 3 of 6

"Are we still on for this evening?"

Tim nearly groaned in pain in answer to the question.

"Trent, it has been a long week. Can we reschedule?" she moaned roughly into the phone, slouching forward in her chair and over her table. She just managed to avoid banging her head off her keyboard.

She was telling the truth, it had been an excruciatingly long week. To such a degree she had actually forgotten that she had a date – of sorts – with the CIA man. She had remembered at the beginning of the week, after all, she had even remembered to send her chosen dress for the evening to the dry cleaners. She just hadn't had the time to pick it up yet.

She glanced at the clock in the corner of her computer screen.

Even if she did manage this evening she wouldn't make it in time to the shop to pick up her clothes before they closed. She could find something else to wear, she supposed… But she was so tired.

"I'll be out of the country for the next couple of months," he told her.

Tim sighed.

That was code for 'I may not be alive for a 'reschedule''.

"I'm still at work. I am smelly and dirty," running after murders would do that to you, "I haven't been home in two days," sometimes she really hated Gibbs, "I can still taste yesterday's coffee in my mouth," maybe that was a little too much information – but thankfully easily fixed now that she had the time to brush her teeth and Gibb's wasn't breathing over her shoulders constantly, "And my clothes are still at the dry cleaners," she finished, sounding lame even to her own ears.

"Are you laughing at me?" she demanded.

The chuckle that had started somewhere around the coffee comment continued for some time.

"Of course not,"

"You're lying," she grumbled, but she couldn't stop the small smile from coming to her own lips.

"What dry cleaners? I can pick up your clothes. Our reservation is in an hour and a half. You can get a shower at the Navy Yard and I'll bring you your clothes,"

She glanced around. Tony and Ziva both appeared to be busy with their own work at the moment but she had no doubts that their ears were fixed firmly towards her and straining to catch ever word.

Had they heard who she was talking to?

Would they connect the name 'Trent' with 'Kort' the hated CIA agent?

So what if they did? She was entitled to a private life – no matter how embarrassingly slight it was.

She glance down at her feet, encased in sturdy work boots. Hardly suitable for a dinner date. She'd raid her trunk. She was sure to have something a bit better in her car.

"Fine, you win," she finally agreed.

"Wonderful, now, what dry cleaners?"

Tim rattled of the address all the while hoping that the team would be gone by the time her 'date' arrived.

LLL

Tim slipped into the knee length black dress that Kort had delivered to her and after some interesting twisting and straining got it zipped up the back.

She looked in one of the mirrors that lined the changing room.

The shower had done her the world of good and although her face looked a bit splotchy from the heat it was nothing that the fifteen minutes to the restaurant wouldn't cure.

She slipped into the battered pair of ballet flats she had found under the passenger seat of her car – thanking her little sister for being such a forgetful slob at times – and studied the effect.

Better than the work boots.

Tim felt relief that the team had left almost as soon as she had hung up the phone, Ziva and Tony pushing and shoving each other into the elevator. Gibbs had remained and when she finally couldn't stand it anymore she had stood. He had mirrored her.

Seeing no other way around it she had grabbed her gear as though she was leaving – Gibbs doing the same – and made for the elevator herself. Gibbs was on her heals the whole time.

The few minutes in the box had been torturous until she had finally broken and asked him if he had any plans.

"Working on the boat,"

"Oh,"

"And you?"

That had surprised her. After all, Gibbs wasn't exactly a very talkative kind of guy. Small talk was probably in the same category as serial killers in the man's mind.

She had looked up at him a little wary.

"Um, not really, no. Just catching up on some stuff,"

Silence had reigned for the remainder of the downward journey – only a blessed few seconds more thankfully and they had parted ways in the parking lot.

That had been when Tim had found the shoes, returned to the building with everything she had left with, informed security of her impending visitor and made a beeline for the showers.

One good thing about it being evening was that they were empty.

Kort had appeared as she had her head upside down drying her hair.

He had stood, leaning against the wall with one shoulder and the dry cleaning bag slung over the other.

Smiling.

She had frowned at him for sneaking up on her and he had reproved her for being such a spoiled sport by dressing in her gym clothes after her shower.

Tim was still blushing from the raised eyebrow and suggestive eye lift.

She nodded at her reflection.

"That's as good as it is going to get, Tim," she told herself.

At least she made a habit out of making sure she shaved – she had found herself in way to many embarrassing situations through her years on Team Gibbs to leave herself open for Tony's comments with something so simple - and the lack of tights didn't really matter.

Placing the hairdryer back in the locker with the broken door where it was habitually kept for anyone to use, she swept up the towel she had flung over the bench and shoved it into her bag before zipping it up and slinging it over her shoulder.

Time to go on a not-date.

 **I just loved the idea of them becoming friends (in a way) and making as regular a thing as was possible of dinner and a 'will you join the CIA, please, please, please' speech.**

 **Another Gibbs/Ziva/Tony spying sessions coming up. But this time it makes a lot more sense than with Langer. After all, they REALLY don't like Kort.**

 **Take care everyone :)**


	30. A Date with the Devil - CIA 4 of 6

"Tony, it is none of our affair," Ziva snapped at her partner, feeling less than happy with the man as he had just shoved her into the elevator.

He hadn't been very gentle about it, and neither had she when she had pushed him back in retaliation.

His reason had been to get her into the private spot as quickly as possible so he could speak about their teammate and her plans for this evening.

Ziva liked Tim and if she had a date tonight, well good for her. Of course, Ziva did question Tim's choice in men slightly if the 'Trent' of the phone call was the one and only Trent they all knew. But then again, Tim was a grown woman who could make her own decisions without them stepping in. And if Tim liked her men with an edge who were they to argue with her.

"That man is EVIL!" Tony snapped, pressing the emergency stop button and bringing the metal box to a banging halt.

Ziva looked up at her teammate in the now dimmer light. It was not often that Tony allowed his serious side to show – preferring to hide behind the practical joker. His concern wasn't a masked attempt to nosy into Tim's personal life and dating habits. He was actually worried about her.

Ziva thought and made up her mind rapidly. It would be better for her to be involved from the beginning than to have him go off on his own and do something stupid. At least she could hopefully pull him out of a situation if he landed himself in something requiring a rescue. Perhaps a rescue from McGee if the other woman found him involving himself in something that was none of his business.

"What do you want to do then?" she sighed, not liking this one little bit.

Tony smiled at her like a little boy getting his way and started the elevator moving again.

"We need to talk to Gibbs,"

* * *

They sat in Tony's car waiting for their boss to exit the building.

Ziva was starting to wonder if she could last another minute without killing Tony.

"Why Kort? I mean…it has got to be him, right? What other Trent could she know?"

"I do not know, Tony,"

"Yeah but why him?" he continued, deaf to her comments just like he had been since he had started his monologue.

"I do not know, Tony,"

"He's evil! He has screwed us ov-" he froze at that, closing his eyes and rubbing at them viciously.

"What is wrong now?" Ziva snapped irritably, glad that he had finally stopped the near constant stream of words but also worried by his sudden silence.

Perhaps his brain had had an accident like a computer. No…that wasn't the word. What was it? Crash! That was it. His brain had crashed and was re-starting.

"He is picking up her dry cleaning," he spoke slowly, like he was trying to work his way through a puzzle. All the colour had also drained from his face and his eyes were wide in panic.

"Yes Tony," Ziva sighed, going back to looking out of the window, still no sign of Gibbs, "We understood that from her side of the phone-call,"

"But what if he is _picking up_ her dry cleaning?" she could hear him turning in his seat and she turned her head to him.

He grabbed her by her shoulders and forced her to face him completely. He shook her.

Ziva batted him away impatiently.

"That is what he is doing Tony. We have established this," Idiot!

He looked at her as though _she_ was the one losing her mind and shook his head in wonderment.

"Is this some American thing?" she queried.

"Ziva, what if-" he gulped.

Ziva was shocked. It appeared that Tony had been rendered speechless by himself. Proof that indeed anything was possible.

"Just say it Tony!" she finally exploded at the same time as Tony spoke.

She blinked at him. Had she heard him properly?

"What?"

"Sleeping together? Horizontal tango? Taking an adult nap? Exchanging bodily fluids?"

It was obvious that Tony was having some kind of breakdown and yes, she had heard him right the first time around.

"Why is this disturbing you so much?" she asked, "I am sure Trent is not the first man Tim has 'tangoed' with," the look of naked terror and shock on his face had Ziva rushing to add, "If that is the case,"

"Tim is the baby of the team," he sulked, "It's just…just wrong!"

And that was that.

* * *

It took nearly twenty minutes for Gibbs to make an appearance and Ziva was glad to finally have the opportunity to leave the car as she sprinted behind Tony to Gibbs' side.

"Gibbs," Tony didn't waste any time with hellos, "we have to do something,"

Gibbs stood and stared at them in the light of the lamp he was parked under. He had been just about to get into his car and was still standing with the door open, but now he slammed it shut and leaned back against it.

To Ziva's surprise he didn't seem at all annoyed by this delay to his evening. In true Gibbs fashion he appeared as though he had been expecting their appearance.

"Like what, Tony?" Gibbs asked, folding his arms across his chest and studying them both.

"I don't know…Ground her!"

Ziva bet Gibbs to the head slap.

She glared at Tony, ignoring his hurt expression.

"Tim is not some teenager to be locked in the house, Tony,"

"But she has to be in trouble. This is Kort we are talking about. He has to be taking advantage of her," Tony looked between her and Gibbs, both of them remaining silent.

"Dry cleaning, Boss!" he waved his arms about in an attempt to get the point across that Ziva had missed.

Gibbs did not have the same problem as she had, and got Tony's point immediately.

"Fine,"

What?

Ziva cast a look of surprise at Gibbs. He wasn't serious was he?

"We follow them-" Tony whooped in victory, "discreetly, DiNozzo,"

Gibbs then looked to her and she narrowed her eyes trying to get across her feelings on the matter without speaking. He understood her alright. And proceeded to ignore her.

"McGee just went back in with her things, follow her and stay close, do not let her see you,"

"Gibbs, I do not think this is wise," she spoke her mind before she left, wanting it known that she did not approve of spying on their teammate.

Tim was…Tim. She wasn't the type to get into trouble or in over her head. And if she ever did Ziva was certain she would come to them.

"This will just be a case of observing, Ziva, nothing more. Just make sure she doesn't see you. Either of you," he pointed at them both, his eyes hardening.

"Yes Boss,"

"Yes Gibbs,"

 **The whole Trent/Tim thing kind of exploded in my head when I was writing these…so yeah…**

 **Like I said before, the idea of the team spying on Tim with Trent seemed very realistic to me after their previous dealing with him.**

 **Have a nice day/evening.**

 **Take care everyone.**

 **:)**


	31. A Date with the Devil - CIA 5 of 6

Kort placed his hand over hers and traced the fine blue lines of her veins before turning her hand over and tracing the creases on her palm.

There had been a certain charge in the air for the past year or so at their meetings and she had made sure he knew that things would not progress the way he obviously wished them too. At least, she thought she had made sure. It was clear there had been a mix up in the communication somewhere.

"Trent, we have been over this," she told him softly.

She valued his friendship – even if at times he did make a pretty questionable human being – and she wasn't the type who could sleep with a friend and then just go back to the way things had been before. She knew she wouldn't be able to do it and she would not risk what they had for an on-again-of-again friendly fling.

He looked up at her and met her eyes. A smile creased the corners of his own and she couldn't help but smile back.

"You can't honestly say you haven't thought about it?"

No, she couldn't say that. She _had_ thought about it. She was only human after all. But she had quickly stopped any line of thoughts that strayed _that_ way. Well…maybe she had indulged in more than one little daydream but she refused to let them go further than day dreams. She had no intention of having a 'Mr and Mrs Smith' style relationship. Ever.

"We would be…good," he spoke softly.

Oh, she knew that and she couldn't stop the slight blush from coming to her face. After all the years she had known him – and Tony – and all the things she had seen with her work she couldn't believe that she still lit up like a Christmas tree when it came to certain things. Why couldn't she be more like Ziva? The woman traded innuendos with Tony like it was nothing. Perhaps as the woman knew so many languages 'innuendo' was just viewed as another one.

"I know we would, but do you know how I stop myself," she whispered back, leaning forward slightly. She may blush up brighter than a fire engine but she had learned a thing or two from observation and she wasn't above playing dirty.

He leaned in towards her to meet her halfway above the table.

She leaned in close to his ear and heard his breath coming in a quick gasp.

"Corpses," she whispered into his ear.

He sat back and only laughed.

"Cools me down quicker than an ice-bath. Or a certain someone-we-both-know's car going sky high," she reached for her wine glass and took a sip, it was good, "That works too,"

This got no reaction other than a sigh from the CIA agent and he reached for his own wine.

"Are you ever going to let that go?" he asked before taking an appreciative sip from his own glass.

"No," she smiled.

"Ah, Tim, you wound me,"

"You'll get over it,"

He placed his glass back on the table and swept up the hand she wasn't using to play with the stem of her glass.

He raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the palm.

"Never," he whispered.

* * *

The team watched in wide mouthed shock, each of them trying to understand just what they were seeing. Even Gibbs was surprised by what he was witnessing.

Trent Kort, evil CIA agent and possible blower-upper of NCIS agents was propositioning Tim. Their Tim. And by the sounds of things this was not the first time he had done so. And Tim had said no. Again, something that seemed to be a repeat of a previous meeting between them.

Just how long had these dinner dates been going on between the two of them?

And why hadn't they known about it?

Surely this couldn't have been going on until after the case Tim had alluded to. She was an open book when it came to her feelings, they would have noticed if there was some previous connection between their probie and Kort.

"I need to bleach my brain," Tony whispered into the darkness of the van.

Ziva slapped him over the back of the head.

"Ouch, Ziva, what was that for?" he moaned, rubbing at his head.

"Is it so unbelievable that someone would fine Tim desirable?"

"What?" Tony shot out in surprise, "No of course not. It's just…Kort. I mean, she can do so much better,"

"Mmhmm," Ziva made the noncommittal noise and went back to concentrating on the noises coming from the microphones they had planted and the screens of the security cameras they had fed into.

Tony meanwhile continued to speak.

"I mean where did we go wrong? What did we miss? They seem to be pretty cosy in there? Don't you think, boss?"

Gibbs remained quiet. Lost in his own thoughts and eventually realising that no reply would be forthcoming Tony too fell quiet and began to rummage through the bag of burgers they had picked up before settling into the surveillance van.

They watched as Tim and the enemy exchanged small talk – Tony's eyes glazing over when Tm began to talk about some new computer programme she was working on – and ate their dinner.

It wasn't until the main course had been cleared away that all of them perked up.

"Now, Miss McGee, down to business," Kort spoke.

"Indeed, Mr Kort,"

The exchange between them was so practiced and light it made all of them feel uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable because well…Kort! And slightly guilty as they finally began to feel like they were invading their team-mates privacy by listening in like this.

"On behalf of the CIA I thank you for accepting this invitation to meet with me,"

They could see a grainy smile come to Tim's face as she raised her glass slightly to Kort and took a drink.

"I again repeat the offer that my agency has made on several occasions with the permission of both our Directors, and ask you to consider accepting a post, this time as head of our Cyber unit. We find that your skills and knowledge would be a great asset to the agency," they watched him reach into his inner breast coat pocket and draw out a piece of paper, "Your starting salary," he explained as it was placed in front of McGee, "Subject of course to increase after certain yearly milestones and overtime,"

As if she had all the time in the world they watched Tim lift the flap of the folded piece of paper and take a peak.

They couldn't see what it said but by the smile on Kort's face they could only guess what the number was.

The sound of Tim clearing her throat came to them load and clear.

"I would like to thank the CIA once again for their interest in me and their _extremely_ generous offer. And I regret that I find I must again decline," Tim gave what sounded like a very practised answer and Kort sighed.

"Will you say yes one day?" he asked, taking back the piece of paper and slipping it into the pocket it had come from.

"Perhaps,"

Ziva and Tony gasped in horror, she couldn't leave them.

Gibbs meanwhile accepted what she said. He knew that Tim was very well respected in certain circles - he hadn't realised just how much until now – and that while her skill set was greatly appreciated and needed in his team her potential was wasted at NCIS…

"Well, now that is out the way, how about desert?" Trent's arm went up as he waved for a menu.

"Desert would be lovely," came Tim's soft reply.

 **Tada!**

 **This was going to be the last of the Tim/Korts but then I just couldn't stop. So there is one more to come which is more of an alternative to this than a connection.**

 **I really hope you enjoyed this.**

 **Please let me know what you think.**

 **Take care everyone.**

 **:)**


	32. A Date with the Devil - CIA 6 of 6

The Englishman was far too suave for his own good. But damn it, Tim was woman enough to accept just how much she enjoyed the care. The soft touch on the base of her back – but never _too_ low. The way he would open doors for her, help her out of the car…

He really was a gentleman when he put his mind to it and Tim basked in the attention.

They stepped into the foyer of the hotel that Kort had chosen and they followed the directions of a smiling host into the restaurant.

It looked lovely. The lighting was high where there was heavy traffic but tastefully lowered above the tables.

A dance floor was entirely unlit at the moment in front of a small stage.

Her attention was drawn away from her surroundings – that she felt completely underdressed for -and back to her companion when he touched her elbow.

"I shan't be long," he told her and she nodded, a little confused as she watched him walk away with a very rattled looking man.

* * *

"I am sorry for interrupting your evening, Mr Kort, but I had no desire to unsettle the young lady,"

Trent glanced fondly in the direction of the 'young lady' in question where he had left her at the door to the restaurant.

The hotel owner had no idea just how much it would take to truly 'unsettle' her but Trent was certain it would be a lot more than this little man could throw at her.

"It is no problem, Philip, what can I do for you?" he asked the man he had known for some years now.

"I was just informed by one of the waiters that a short time ago they were approached by a couple claiming to be federal agents,"

Trent's ears pricked up at this.

'Claiming'? His work had led to his making a lot of enemies – very few of whom knew the name Trent Kort – had someone tracked him down? It was true that most of his enemies were dead or locked up for a very long time but it was still possible.

"It was a young couple. Attractive. Dark haired. Frank was very taken with the young lady,"

Of course. The NCIS brigade couldn't keep their collective noses out of one evening!

He sighed and looked back towards Tim. She looked lovely in her black dress and cardigan, but then she had looked lovely with her head upside down as she had dried her hair in the women's changing room at NCIS only half an hour ago. How would she feel about her teammates – because that was the only federal agents who could feel the need to botch up their evening – being present? He knew she didn't go out of her way to keep their acquaintanceship secret…she just didn't air it about. He couldn't blame her either, they would probably accuse her of being a 'traitor' or something equally stupid.

"What did they want?"

"They wished to see the table," Philip explained, ringing his hands, "Frank cooperated, he has some minor charges hanging over him by all accounts and did not want to get into trouble,"

"Did they do anything," Trent's patience was growing thin.

One pleasant evening. Was that too much to ask of the mighty Gibbs? Because Trent was sure he was involved somehow. David and DiNozzo wouldn't be running around wild on their own.

"He kept a close eye on them and said all they did was lift the centre piece and put it back down,"

No doubt planting a bug.

Just what did they think they were going to hear? Threats? Intimidation?

A wicked grin came to his lips.

Well, that wasn't what they were going to hear this evening. Oh no. They were going to be listening to something quite different if the lady of the evening agreed.

"Well, no harm done, Philip, thank you for your vigilance," Trent pulled out his wallet and flicked it open to pull out a token of his appreciation.

"No, no, sir, there is no need. My patrons come here wanting a relaxing meal and I am only sorry that I have interrupted your evening this much,"

With another quick exchange of apologies and thanks Trent returned to Tim, who smiled at his reappearance.

"Is everything alright?"

He leaned in close to her and she tensed slightly. He knew why. He had made his…interest in her known on more than one occasion and he had been turned down – gently - on each of them. He was persistent however but his advances had become more of a gentle flirting than anything else as he didn't want to make her uncomfortable in his presence.

He was pleased that although she tensed she didn't back away.

Kort pressed his lips to her ear, breathing in the smell of her hair. Damn it! She smelled edible.

 _Concentrate!_

"We have eyes on us this evening, love," he mumbled into her ear.

She pulled away and smiled up at him, looking for all the world like an adoring girlfriend. He was proud of her act. After all, he hadn't said just who was watching them and her act was perfect.

"Is that so?"

He nodded and took her arm gently as they were shown to their bugged table. There sat the centre piece. A small dish with two candles in it. He had no doubt that if he were to tip out the dish, two candles and one small bug the size of a watch battery would fall out.

Before they sat down he pulled her close to him, tracing her spine easily with his fingers and whispered into her ear.

"Fancy having some fun with your team, Miss McGee,"

Trent pulled back far enough to see her face, her green eyes pierced into his.

Several emotions passed across her face in an instance.

Annoyance. Anger. Resignation. And then…

An impish smirk flitted across her lips and she nodded, drawing his head to hers she spoke against his lips already throwing herself completely into the act.

"Would I ever," she crooned.

 **Tada. So this is the other version of team spying on Tim/Kort time that I had in my head. The story-goblins really did grab onto this Tim/Kort idea and not let it go…I really love the idea of them playing at the loving/seductive couple to mess with the nosy team ;) But then also having it being real like it was in the last chapter.**

 **So guys, this is the very last of this collection.**

 **I would like to thank everyone who has dropped me a review for letting me know your thoughts on the stories. Thank You so much for taking the time to do that :).**

 **I am thinking of doing another collection like this later on if I can think of enough ideas – I do have a few jotted down, but not enough for a full collection yet, so if anyone has any ideas they would like me to maybe try feel free to shoot me a message or leave me a review.**

 **I may be trying my hand at a Fem Tim/A Town Called Eureka story. So keep your eyes out for that if you are interested.**

 **Thanks again everyone and best of luck in November for anyone trying their hand at NaNoWriMo (I am giving a Historical Cozy Mystery a bash this year :)).**

 **Take care everyone. x**


	33. A Date with the Devil - CIA 7 of 6

Tim was slightly ashamed to admit it – not a lot though – but she was thoroughly enjoying her evening of playing one half of a dotting, sickly affectionate couple.

After she had seen where Trent was going with his suggestion that they have 'fun' with her spying teammates – how dare they! – and she had kissed him – she had no idea how she had managed to control her blush – he had shown her to her seat and pushing it in behind her. She had not expected the kiss he had pressed to the base of her neck. A small shiver had tumbled through her at that.

He had then taken his own chair opposite her and had not stopped smiling since.

Tim hadn't realised just how many smiles the man was capable of until now, but the soft almost playful twitch and twinkle of his eyes had to be her favourite. It softened him somehow.

They had talked and they had laughed - much as they would have done if they weren't being spied on the whole time - falling into the easy rhythm they had perfected after years of such dinners. But there was a difference.

There were long shared glances over jokes where there would usually only be a quick meeting of eyes. He took her hand at the end of every course, playing with her fingers – damn, but she was going to be covered in goosebumps for the rest of the year after tonight, he was playing havoc with her – running the tips of his own over the almost translucent skin on the back of her hand. Tracing the veins softly with his callused fingers.

And then, once plates had been cleared and there was nothing for sleeves to be accidentally dragged through or cutlery to be sent crashing to the floor he would lean in closer to her. The first time he did this she had to force herself to stay still, keeping her breath even as the hand that wasn't over her own on the table approached her face. Gently he traced the length of some hair that had come loose and had curled down the side of her face. He didn't pull, only seemed to feel the strands between his fingers before he smiled at her and tucked it behind her ear. More shivers danced down her spin as he traced the outline of her ear.

Thankfully, the next course arrived before she melted into a puddle and his hands were once again occupied with a knife and fork.

She took a deep breath and indulged in a larger than usual sip of wine before beginning on her own plate.

* * *

Ziva was finding this whole situation incredibly amusing, and although she had made it clear that she was against spying on her teammate she could not argue with the results.

Whatever Tony – and she supposed Gibbs – had thought they were going to find out by watching Tim with the CIA agent she was sure this was not it.

There were no threats veiled with a smile and a kind word. No animosity. Not even any uncomfortable silences.

They were watching a couple who were happy together and comfortable in each other's company. She couldn't remember ever seeing Tim smile so much in such a short amount of time before. Which was saying a lot as McGee was an open and happy person at work – perhaps not as keen on the outwards displays as Abby it was true but she always had a smile to give.

Ziva had picked up on some slight discomfort from Tim occasionally, usually whenever Kort would show her some sign of affection but she put that down to Tim being a naturally shy person who did not like making such scenes in public.

She watched as the desert – one plate –was placed between them and using only one fork being wielded by Kort they shared the cake. He scooped up a piece and held the fork out to Tim. Ziva smiled as Tim shot the CIA man a look she had often seen aimed at Tony but she smiled and shook her head with a giggle and allowed the man to feed her.

 _Good for you, Tim._

While Ziva was smiling like a toon…loon…bah, one of them was right…at the couple and not bothering to hide how thrilled she was with what was happening she was more than aware of the bubbling tempers of her two companions. After all, the van wasn't that large and she could almost feel Tony thrumming with agitation.

He had gone from making snide comments – Kort was trying too hard with the restaurant, any minute now and the thumbscrew would come out, even Tim wasn't desperate enough to…(he had never finished _that_ thought as she had not only hit him over the head – after Gibbs had the first shot – but elbowed him quite painfully in the ribs, she was sure she had managed to bruise something) – to the occasional grumble, to a brooding silence that she would be worried about if she and Gibbs were not present to stop him from doing something stupid. She had already been forced to grab him by the arm and pull him back into his seat when at one point Kort had tenderly cupped Tim's face.

Tony, she had decided, was not going to ruin this for Tim. And if she had to break both his ankles to stop him from running into the restaurant then she would do it.

Gibbs on the other hand…

Well, her stoic boss was always a hard one to get a read on and apart from the occasional whack to the back of Tony's head he had remained silent. Simply observing. Even when he struck out at Tony his eyes never strayed from the grainy screen. After so many years of working with the younger man she supposed Gibbs' hand just found the back of Tony's head without much work now.

She was tempted to ask him what he thought of what they were seeing, but she knew better and kept her mouth shut.

* * *

Gibbs never let his eyes stray from the camera feed that was being patched through to the van from the security system inside the high-class restaurant. He was aware of the occasional comment from Tony or Ziva and had shot out his hand more than once to collide with the back of Tony's skull when the words had penetrated his concentration enough for Gibbs to know they were deserving of a head slap, but he kept his ears focused as much on the speakers as the screens.

He listened to every little breath, every chuckle from Kort and every soft giggle from Tim. He watched every little movement. The subtle shifts. The touching of hands. He studied the couple, watching for any sign that Tim was not comfortable and that he needed to get his agent out of there.

But as the minutes ticked by into hours. There was nothing.

It was clear to see from the easy flow of conversation and the relaxed postures that Tim was comfortable in the man's company and that Kort was completely enamoured of Tim. The only time anything seemed slightly off was when Kort would show some kind of affection by touching her. Gibbs' practised eye had picked up on a slight twitch more than once but she would quickly relax again.

It was true that Tim had drawn the CIA agent into a kiss when they had first been shown to the table and she had shown no signs of shyness then, but anyone could be caught up in the moment. Perhaps this aspects of their relationship was new and Tim was still getting used to the man showering her with little touches the way he was? Whatever it was, Gibbs' attention was going to be fixed on the screens until the end of the night.

* * *

Tony was not at all comfortable with how the evening was playing out.

When he had dragged Ziva into the elevator and then when he had rushed over to Gibbs it had been so easy to imagine that Tim was being coerced in some way. That Kort – the smarmy Brit! – was bullying her into doing something she had no wish to do.

Tony knew that he gave Tim a hard time – had done so since he had first met her at that long ago crime scene…she was as green as they came back then – but he cared for her. He would take a bullet for her any day and not even think about it and the thought of someone taking advantage of her had riled him.

When he had seen her kiss Kort he had felt something bubble inside of him. Simmer. He had not been able to stop the snide comments that left his mouth, even when Ziva had rammed her bony elbow into his ribs and he was sure he had a dent the size and shape of Gibbs' hand on the back of his head. And then, as the evening drew on and he watched the way that Kort treated Tim, holding her hand, stroking her face, feeding her desert, he had grown silent, unable to formulate anything flippant about what he was seeing. The CIA creep actually seemed to care for Tim – either that or it was a damn good act.

The mysterious feeling in his stomach suddenly had an identity. He was angry. And hurt.

Here was his partner – a woman he would do anything for – sitting opposite the man who had blown up his car and his cover.

He felt betrayed.

While a part of his mind could easily admit that he knew that Kort had his reasons – he was working to his own agenda's after all – and when he got down to the basics he couldn't really blame the man for what the job required him to do. It hurt that there was no solidarity with Tim. There was an open animosity between the various agencies and yet here she was completely disregarding it.

Tony had to admit to himself – no matter how hard it was – that maybe it wasn't even the fact that she was 'sleeping with the enemy' so to speak. He unclenched the fists he hadn't even realised he formed as Tim laughed light heartedly at something the CIA agent had just said.

What had he said?

Damn it! Tony had been too lost in his own thoughts to listen to what they were even talking about.

But what did it matter. It was her reaction that had him riveted. She looked so happy! And seeing her happy with someone who wasn't the team was killing him inside.

* * *

 **Back by popular demand ;)**

 **Well, not quite... I did like leaving the last one a bit open ended but I got stuck the other evening with one of my other stories, opened another document and started typing and this is what happened.**

 **Hope you like. :)**

 **Have a nice weekend :)**


	34. New Collection!

Hi everyone.

Just to let you know that the second collection has began. :)

The title is - McGirl 2 - The Second Fem Timothy McGee Collection. Not very imaginative I know, but to the point don't you think ;)

I didn't want to put to many in the same group so that the stories will be easier to navigate. Hopefully. Hence a second collection instead of one big long one.

Head on over to my account and 'My Stories' to find it.

I really hope you all enjoy them.

Take care :)


End file.
